


et mentem mortalia tangunt

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (in the form of baking), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Derek briefly becomes a marshmallow?, M/M, Magic Stiles, Mentions of Blood, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tattoos, bed sharing, like i'm telling u this right now so no one goes into this blind, not overly graphic but just in case, sheriff isn't a regular dad he's a Cool Dad, tags will be updated throughout, there will be angst, they spend a lot of time in derek's loft? and lying in his bed? idk yall this is where we're at rn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: As Stiles grew up, looking at the collection of dots in a thin black circle on his hip, he knew one day, he would find his soulmate. Somewhere, out there, was someone who had the same mark, maybe not in the same place as him, but when they found each other… Stiles wouldn’t feel so lonely.ON HIATUS





	1. Caudal Autotomy

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i _know_ i said i was going on hiatus from fic writing but like? apparently i lied. so here's this thing. fair warning: while i have a plan, i am not promising weekly updates - they will be sporadic and unbeta'ed bc yolo. also i've altered the timeline (sorry) so just roll with it if it makes no sense. (additional apologies if the first chapter is murky - bear with me, i'm so sorry lmao.)

Stiles had grown up hearing stories of soulmates. How there was one person on this earth that was perfectly compatible with you, how they would literally complete you and it would change your life. Everything would be okay if you found your soulmate – they would never leave or desert you, they would love you unconditionally through all your flaws, and be there for you, always.

The idea of it was somewhat bizarre, but it was undeniable, and even though science had no explanation for it, the “Red String Theory”, had been proved time and time again. People were just genetically programmed to be better off with one person.

The soulmarks, of course, were infinitely helpful when Red String deniers took to debating with researchers on live TV. The deniers were mostly the sort of people born without soulmarks, who took it to mean “if I don’t have one, then everyone who does is part of some elaborate hoax”, which, clearly, wasn’t the case.

As Stiles grew up, looking at the collection of dots in a thin black circle on his hip, he knew one day, he would find his soulmate. Somewhere, out there, was someone who had the same mark, maybe not in the same place as him, but when they found each other… Stiles wouldn’t feel so lonely.

As a bonus, Stiles discovered that he and his soulmate shared something else, other than their mark. This was where the red string turned into red rope – a stronger, considerably rarer connection. Stiles could feel when his soulmate was in pain. Sometimes injuries were replicated on his skin, though for some reason, they disappeared quickly. Doctors were baffled by that, thinking maybe the connection was less of a red rope, but still more than red string. Red… cord? Something like that.

Still, would’ve been nice if Stiles’ soulmate could calm down with all the injuries. He was getting a little tired of waking up with blood on his pillow, or new bruises blooming across his ribs in the middle of a class. Like, seriously, what the fuck was this person doing?

But then Stiles met Derek Hale and not soon after, he understood.

People always talked about the pull you were supposed to feel upon meeting your soulmate, if you were lucky enough to have one and find them. For Stiles, it was more of a twisting in his gut, or maybe that was just nerves, but either way, the only real pull Stiles felt was Scott tugging anxiously on his arm, as he squealed unhappily.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t feel _something_ , because Stiles was definitely curious about this guy who appeared in the woods and told them to fuck off.

Later, that night, he expressed this thought to Scott, who replied with a snort and, ‘Yeah, curious about how he’ll _kill_ you.’

‘I don’t think he’ll _kill_ me,’ Stiles said thoughtfully, thinking back to the way Derek had looked him over, then introduced himself. Murderers didn’t do that, right? ‘Maybe just eat part of me and then save the rest of me for later, a rag tied over my new bloody stump.’

‘How is that better?’ Scott asked.

‘Would you prefer I was fully dead?’

‘Would you prefer to have a limb eaten?’

‘Well, yeah,’ Stiles said, like Scott was crazy for even asking. ‘Maybe I have some latent superpower that means I can regrow limbs, like caudal autotomy?’

Scott stared at him. ‘Sure.’

‘We don’t know I can’t.’

‘I don’t think we should go back and find out, okay?’

‘No, definitely not,’ Stiles agreed.

Which, y’know, seemed like a solid plan. It wasn’t exactly like Stiles had any overwhelming desire to die, which became a little harder to completely guarantee when his best friend turned into a werewolf and then turned up the next day with Derek in tow, proclaiming him as his wolf-Yoda. (Not in those words, sadly. Scott was adamantly ignoring Stiles’ requests for him to watch _Star Wars_.)

The more shit Scott and Stiles got themselves into, the more time they ended up spending with Derek, and the more annoyed Stiles was getting by the big, brooding, _sourwolf_ who only spoke in a tone that implied they should already know these things. Even though they had only just fallen into it, completely by accident, Derek didn’t seem to care too much, and _God_ that just made Stiles more annoyed.

Stiles definitely wasn’t Derek’s biggest fan, but as it seemed, fate didn’t give a shit if he liked him or not.

***

It was a couple of months after their initial meeting, when Stiles had been unable to sleep and subsequently climbed in Scott’s window at two on a Thursday morning to vent.

‘Does he know?’ Scott asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ Stiles whispered back, careful to contain his voice as not to wake Scott’s mom. ‘I mean, his freaking mark is _right there_ , on his arm! I was about to hack it off with a _bone saw_ – thank you for turning up when you did, by the way – and I’m standing there, staring at those damn _dots_ and…’

‘They were right there?’

‘They were right there!’

‘Wow.’

Stiles stared at him. ‘“Wow.” Is that all you have, Scott? This is life changing information!’

‘Yeah, but like… Derek Hale.’

‘Derek _motherfucking_ Hale!’

‘Stiles!’ Scott hissed. ‘Shut up!’

‘Shit!’ Stiles whisper-yelled. ‘What do I do, man?’

‘Tell him?’

‘I know it’s 2am, but please try to use your brain. He’ll squash me like a bug. You might have super healing, but I –’ Stiles took a moment to gesture at himself for emphasis. ‘I do not.’

‘He won’t squash you.’

‘Do you have proof of that?’

‘Do _you_?’

‘Yes. He has large arms and large hands and super strength and my head is small and _crushable_.’

Scott rolled his eyes. ‘He’s also a werewolf, and they take that sorta stuff seriously. Well, _we_ , I guess.’

‘Wait, really?’ Stiles asked, a glimmer of hope coursing through him, that _maybe_ he would survive the conversation he would need to have with Derek at some point.

‘I dunno, you tell me. You did all the research, right?’

‘The internet is not a reliable source of information for things that supposedly don’t exist. You can’t type _“Do werewolves believe in soulmates?”_ into Google and hope for a rational response.’

‘Then I guess you’re just gonna have to ask him, huh?’

‘Scott, he –’

‘Will crush you,’ Scott finished, rolling his eyes and flopping back down to his mattress. ‘Like a bug. Well, I’m going back to sleep, so either you go climb in _Derek’s_ window, or you deal with it by yourself. Quietly. Out of my house.’

Stiles scowled at his best friend, who had now turned his back to him. ‘You’re no fun.’

‘No, it’s a school night. Goodnight, Stiles.’

‘Fine,’ Stiles said, standing up from Scott’s bed and heading back to the window. ‘See you later.’

Scott hummed gently, then snored almost immediately after. Stupid best friend and his abilities to sleep through a crisis.

Needless to say, Stiles did not drive into the woods that night to climb into the window of a burnt, shell of a house. He didn’t do much of anything, except glance at Derek with this worried look on his face, every single time they were in the same room from then on.

Scott noticed, every single time. And he told Stiles to deal with it. Every. Single. Time.

Stiles ignored this advice, as he rather liked where his head was currently sitting upon his shoulders.

It felt like it had taken longer to come out than it did, because God knows Stiles couldn’t keep anything to himself for any substantial amount of time, but still – it took several months for Derek to say anything about Stiles’ weirder than normal attitude towards him.

‘Stiles,’ Derek said, after a pack meeting one day. ‘Can we talk?’

‘We, uh, sure,’ Stiles said, following Derek into the kitchen of his loft (because he had a _loft_ apparently, and just hung around his destroyed house to look _broody_ and _mysterious_ ) then closed the door to fend off any unwanted werewolf eavesdroppers, despite that most of them were now heading out for burgers. (Which Stiles desperately wanted to do as well.)

‘Something has been bothering you,’ Derek said. Statement, not question. ‘What’s up?’

Honestly, Stiles had been doing his best to put this whole _soulmate_ revelation behind him so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. He was pleased to say it was more of a nagging thought than anything, but every time he saw Derek, the nagging thought became a little more insistent, and he considered that maybe he should take Scott’s advice and just talk to Derek about it.

‘Uh, nothing’s up,’ Stiles lied, trying to keep his heart rate under control. ‘Nothing at all. Everything good on this end. Why, something up with you?’

‘You’re lying.’

‘Says who?’

‘I can tell,’ Derek said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Talk to me.’

‘There’s uh, nothing. Nothing up.’

‘Stiles.’

He tried to hold it in. He really, _really_ , did. ‘How do you feel about soulmates?’ he blurted. _Not as bad as it could’ve been._ ‘Like, do you believe they’re a thing? Do you think you have one? Do you, like, you know…’

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Yes. I do, actually.’

Stiles blinked. ‘What’s, uh, what’s that an answer to?’

‘Everything. I believe in them, and I know I have one. Anything else?’

‘Is it, uh…’ Stiles scratched the back of his neck. ‘What’s it like for werewolves? Any… weird traditions? Anything like that?’

‘Why?’

‘Scott wanted to know and I couldn’t find anything on the internet.’

Derek narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ‘For wolves, I guess… it’s a bit different than humans. The impact of a soulmate on their wolf partner is significant. They become pack, if they aren’t already, and we protect them beyond all else. Once we find our soulmate, it’s almost unheard of to leave them. For me, my soulmate, they would become… sort of like a second alpha to the pack. I’m the alpha, but the pack would have to listen to them as well. Kind of a respect thing, because a mate is recognised as the person closer to the alpha than anyone, even the right hand wolf.’

‘Wow.’

Derek shrugged. ‘So, seriously, why do you ask?’

‘Scott wanted–’

Derek cut him off with a wave of his hand. ‘Is this about you being my soulmate?’

Stiles blinked. ‘Your what now?’

‘My soulmate.’

Stiles laughed nervously, convincing no one. ‘Who says it’s me?’

‘Another thing – wolves can _smell_ their soulmate.’

‘You sniff them out like truffles or something?’

Derek was unamused. ‘Soulmates have this edge to their scent, it’s difficult to describe. It stands out above anyone else.’

Well. Shit. ‘So that means…’

‘I’ve known since before you saw my mark when you almost had to cut my arm off, yeah.’

Stiles pursed his lips. ‘There’s no point in me denying it, is there?’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you knew?’

‘I didn’t want to scare you,’ Derek said, then his face softened uncharacteristically, and he dropped his voice. ‘Can I… Could I see it?’

‘Mine?’

Derek nodded. ‘I just want to make sure I’m right.’

Stiles could understand that. ‘Uh… yeah, okay.’

He walked a couple of steps closer to Derek and sucked in a breath as he pulled his shirt up, and the band of his jeans slightly down to reveal the mark on his hip. He turned his head up to the lights hanging from the ceiling, away from Derek, who had knelt down to get a better look.

Stiles felt Derek’s fingertips lightly trace the mark, leaving warmth in their wake.

‘I’ve always thought it was kind of ironic,’ Derek murmured, placing his hand on Stiles’ hip and keeping it there as he stood up, rubbing his thumb gently over Stiles’ skin. ‘The dots form the constellation Lupus.’

‘The wolf,’ Stiles realised. ‘How did I not get that?’

Derek shrugged. ‘Better late than never.’

Stiles huffed, reaching up to put his own palm over the spot on Derek’s bicep where he knew the mark to be. It was weird, standing here like this, in some weird, tender moment. They weren’t even really friends. But now, all of a sudden, Stiles was struck with the thought that one day, he’d be in love with Derek. He found himself perfectly okay with that.

‘So, what now?’ he asked. ‘Am I high up in the pack food chain now?’

Derek blushed – _actually_ blushed, and took his hand from Stiles’ hip. ‘Not quite yet.’

‘What? Why not?’ Stiles frowned, taking the hint and removing his hand from Derek as well.

‘It’s a wolf thing. They’ll fall in line once we, uh, consu–’

‘Okay, got it, thanks, you can stop,’ Stiles announced. ‘So… when will that be?’

‘When it’s legal, if this is what you want. We don’t even need to be romantic soulmates, Stiles. It’s possible for this to be a platonic thing.’

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t date me?’

‘You’re sixteen, Stiles. You’re too young –’

‘What about when I’m _not_ young?’

Derek frowned. ‘It’s very… difficult, for wolves to be with someone other than their soulmate.’

‘Is that a polite way of saying you’d date me because you don’t have a choice?’

‘At this moment, right now, I’m not going to date you. I’m also not going to date anyone else, and if you decide this isn’t a _romantic_ connection, then I just… won’t.’

Stiles raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, _oh_. Okay. Well, I’m down if you are.’

A small smile appeared on Derek’s lips. ‘When it’s legal.’

Stiles huffed. ‘What until then?’

Derek sighed and crossed his arms. ‘Try to keep it to yourself, okay? If other packs find out, or if _anyone_ that wants to get leverage over me finds out, you’re in serious danger. The soulmate of an alpha is an impressive bargaining chip to form alliances or blackmail for resources or power, whether or not we’re, uh…’

‘Together?’ Stiles offered.

Derek grimaced. ‘Whether or not we’re _mated_.’

Stiles pursed his lips and tried not to think too much into that. ‘Okay, well, Scott already knows.’

‘I assumed as much. Just… don’t go around telling people, yeah? Not even other pack members.’

Stiles nodded. ‘Yeah. But, uh. We’re good?’

‘We’re good.’

‘Great, I’m gonna go catch up with the pack for burgers. Coming?’

‘No.’

Stiles blinked. ‘I don’t know what I expected.’

Derek gave a rare grin. ‘Get out of my house and eat burgers, Jesus.’

***

Nothing changed. Literally _nothing_. Granted, Stiles didn’t know much about werewolf soulmates (he caved and ended up Googling it, but he was right – the search results turned up fuck all) or much about soulmates in general, really, other than what the media liked to repeat over and over, but he was pretty sure your soulmate was supposed to _like_ you.

Derek didn’t seem to like Stiles.

It was more like he just tolerated Stiles, like he always had. Which kinda made sense, because Derek had known before even Stiles had, so really, he should’ve been on his best behaviour from the start. Maybe this _was_ his best behaviour? That thought came unbidden into Stiles’ brain and startled him slightly, because on the night they had met, Derek had thrown an inhaler at his head and almost brained him right then and there. If that was how Derek treated his newly discovered soulmate, then Stiles pitied the poor random people to run into him in the woods.

All of this aside, Stiles had at least expected _something_ to change between them, like Derek would be nicer to him or maybe even flirt a little, but no. Those were nothing more than incredibly vain hopes.

‘Dude,’ Scott groaned, after Stiles brought up the topic one afternoon. ‘Why don’t you just ask him instead of me?’

‘Yeah, I’ll do that,’ Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Just send him a text like, “Hey, why aren’t you nicer to me if we’re soulmates?”’

‘Exactly,’ Scott agreed. ‘Straight to the point.’

‘He’ll kill me, Scott.’

‘Stiles, no offence, but _I_ might kill you if you ask me about Derek’s inner thoughts again.’

Stiles frowned, a little annoyed he wasn’t getting where he wanted to be from this conversation. Scott was, surprisingly, right. It would just eat at him, otherwise, and he’d rather not ask Derek a stupid question to his face.

 

**STILES:** _wait if we’re *~soulmates~* then why aren’t u nice to me_

**STILES:** _u KNEW we were soulmates and ur still mean to me???_

‘If he kills me for this, I’m haunting you,’ Stiles said lightly, putting his phone on the floor in favour of picking up the games controller beside him. A few minutes later, it went off loudly, signalling a new text.

 

**DEREK:** _what do you mean? i’m always nice to you_

**STILES:** _?????_

**DEREK:** _…compared to the others_

**STILES:** _i actually thought u liked them more than me_

**STILES:** _which, like, understandable_

**STILES:** _i’m just a human so :|_

**DEREK:** _you might be human, but you’re still pack._

**DEREK:** _still my soulmate._

**STILES:** _if i wasn’t, would i still be in the pack?_

**DEREK:** _well you came as a package deal with scott so i don’t think there would’ve been an option for you not to be._

**STILES:** _gee thanks_

**DEREK:** _but yes i still would’ve taken you in. you’re occasionally useful._

**STILES:** _you know what? i'm gonna take that as a compliment_

**DEREK:** _maybe one day we can use you as bait. be really useful._

**STILES:** _:o_

**DEREK:** _i'm joking_

**DEREK:** _like i said, you’re still my soulmate. i would never do something like that to you._

**STILES:** _promise?_

**DEREK:** _promise._

 

‘Wow,’ Scott said, reading over Stiles’ shoulder. ‘That’s deep.’

‘Yeah, and tomorrow he’ll be back to pretending we didn’t have this conversation,’ Stiles huffed in annoyance. ‘He says all this nice stuff that’s like… _romantic_ at times, and then he acts like he didn’t. It’s giving me whiplash.’

Scott let out a longsuffering sigh and paused their game again. ‘You gotta look at it from his view. He said you shouldn’t tell anyone, right? If he shows any favouritism towards you, then the pack will know something is up. He’s doing it for your own good. Besides, do you even _want_ anything else from him?’

‘Like what?’

Scott bit his lip. ‘I mean… do you want to _date_ him?’

‘We’re like, cosmically joined, Scott. The universe wants me to date him.’

‘Yeah, but do you _want_ to do what the universe says?’ Scott raised his eyebrows meaningfully. ‘Like, if you weren’t soulmates, would you still want to?’

Stiles blinked. ‘Scott, I don’t think I’m straight.’

‘You’d want to date him, huh.’

‘I mean…’ Stiles trailed off and ran his hands through his hair in agitation. ‘He’s hot, right?’ At Scott’s shrug, Stiles stood up and paced for a moment in the small space of Scott’s room to gather his thoughts. ‘I like him. I _like_ him. I would date him. I want to date him. I want to date Derek.’

Scott nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck,’ Stiles muttered. ‘That was not a revelation I was expecting today. _Now_ what?’

Scott shrugged again. ‘He’s your soulmate. Just tell him what’s going on.’

‘Not gonna happen,’ Stiles shook his head. While soulmates were technically above the law, Derek had made it quite clear that if anything was ever going to happen between them, it wouldn’t be until Stiles was eighteen. There was no point in bringing it up or even entertaining it as more than just a thought. At least, not for now.

‘You know you can’t just push everything away all the time.’

‘Scott, it’s not gonna change anything, so there’s no point, okay?’ Stiles sat back down and picked up his controller once more. ‘Can we just play this? Please? I – _fuck_!’

‘Stiles?’ Scott asked. ‘Are you okay?’

‘ _Ssshit_ ,’ Stiles hissed, clutching at his thigh. ‘What the fuck?’

‘Stiles?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he gritted out. ‘Did I ever mention that I can feel when he’s getting the shit kicked out of him?’

‘That’s kinda cool, but oh my god,’ Scott gasped. ‘Dude, you’re _bleeding_.’

Stiles gave a shaky laugh and lifted his hand, seeing it stained with his own blood. ‘Yeah, I know, right.’

‘Is he okay?’

Stiles breathed in deeply, leaning against the foot of Scott’s bed. ‘Nothing else is bleeding, is it?’

‘Not that I can see.’

‘He’s probably – _goddammit_ ,’ Stiles cringed sharply to the left, almost headbutting Scott in the process. ‘This is _not_ okay.’

Scott craned his head around to look at Stiles’ ribs. ‘Dude.’

‘I _know_ , Scott!’ Stiles stood and grabbed his phone off the floor, hobbling to Scott’s bathroom. ‘Bring me some clean clothes, would you?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Scott said, immediately going through his drawers for a shirt Stiles could borrow.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, where nothing (hopefully) would end up stained with his blood, Stiles rinsed his hands off, dried them quickly, and called Derek’s phone on speaker.

It took seven rings for it to be picked up. ‘Stiles,’ Derek greeted, sounding a little out of breath.

‘Hey, quick question?’ Stiles said, not waiting for an answer. ‘What the _fuck_?’

‘Huh?’

‘You know I can feel when you get injured, right? I’m wearing my favourite shirt, and now there’s blood soaking through, like, _half_ of it. Wanna explain why?’

‘Oh.’ Derek paused, sighed, then admitted meekly, ‘I was fighting.’

‘Yeah, I figured, going by the way there’s also a large _gash_ on my leg,’ Stiles said, pulling off his jeans and watching the skin finish knitting itself back together. ‘What the hell were you fighting?’

Derek was quiet for a few moments. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s dead.’

‘That’s not comforting.’

‘It should be,’ Derek said, hanging up the phone.

‘He’s such an _asshole_ ,’ Stiles said loudly, to no one in particular. If a tree falls in the forest with no one around to hear, it still makes a sound, just like how Derek would still be an asshole if there was no one around to witness it.

‘Stiles?’ Scott called. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, great,’ Stiles bit out, washing the drying blood from his skin and towelling off the red tinged water with the towel Scott passed through the door. ‘He hung up on me.’

‘I heard.’

‘He’s an asshole, Scott. My soulmate is a total douche.’

‘Yeah.’

Stiles huffed and tossed the towel towards the hamper in the corner of the bathroom. ‘Clothes?’

Scott silently handed a pair of jeans and a shirt through the door. ‘Is he okay?’

‘He was killing something, apparently,’ Stiles said, pulling on the clothes and frowning at the clean shirt Scott had given him. ‘Is this mine?’ he asked, opening the door.

‘I think so.’

‘Oh, cool, I’ll take it back then.’

Scott shrugged in accordance. ‘What are you gonna do with that?’ he asked, nodding towards the pile of bloody clothes on the floor.

‘Take them home and pray the stains come out.’

‘Are you feeling okay? I mean… that was a lot of blood.’

‘No more than usual, but yeah, I’m fine.’

‘Okay, good. I’ll kick his ass if he gets you hurt.’

Stiles sighed as he sat back on the floor and unlocked his phone to text Derek. ‘It’s not intentional.’

 

**STILES:** _are u okay tho_

‘I know, but still. Werewolves can take a lot more than humans, Stiles. Something he could bounce back from might actually kill you,’ Scott said seriously. ‘He needs to be careful.’

 

**DEREK:** _yeah i'm okay. didn't know we had that extra connection, so i’m sorry for… that._

**STILES:** _not the first time it’s happened and probs won’t be the last_

**DEREK:** _i’ll try to avoid confrontation from now on._

**STILES:** _no u won’t_

**DEREK:** _no, i probably won’t._

Stiles sighed. ‘So, summary: might be a bit into guys, and not just because the universe thinks I should be, my favourite shirt is ruined, and we’ve come to the conclusion I could die at any given moment.’

‘Is that entirely accurate?’ Scott asked.

‘Which part?’

‘Imminent death.’

Stiles shrugged. ‘You werewolves are always getting into shit, and you said it yourself – I could die from something he does.’

‘You’re taking it really well.’

‘All my freaking out happens on the inside,’ Stiles stretched out with a yawn. ‘Today has been a lot.’

‘The last _hour_ has been a lot,’ Scott pointed out.

Stiles just hummed in agreement. He had a feeling this was just how things in his life were going to be from now on. His best friend was a werewolf, his _soulmate_ was a werewolf, and he would be lucky to make it out of this whole mess alive.


	2. A Sign from the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Great!’ Stiles said brightly. ‘Make sure you have snacks. Research makes me hungry.’  
> ‘Everything makes you hungry.’  
> ‘Yeah, it’s almost like I need food to do daily activities.’  
> Derek rolled his eyes and threw a kernel at Stiles. ‘Asshole.’

_When Derek was thirteen, his mother sat him down in the study one day. He thought he knew what was coming, because his friends had started telling stories at lunch about how their parents were giving them_ the talk _. The birds and the bees and if you’re gonna have sex, use protection. That’s what he was expecting to hear, at least._

_‘Derek,’ Talia said, closing the door behind them, gesturing for him to take a seat in one of the huge, leather armchairs beside the fire. ‘It’s time we had a talk.’_

_‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Derek interrupted. He didn’t want to talk about sex with his mother any more than he suspected she wanted to. ‘I know about… things. My friends have told me, it’s okay, we don’t need to go through this.’_

_Talia smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘That’s not what I was going to say, but it’s good to hear. This is about something different.’_

_Derek blushed and wished he hadn’t brought it up. ‘Sorry.’_

_‘It’s okay, I’m happy that you know about… that. This is about the mark on your arm.’_

_‘The mark on my arm?’ Derek repeated, putting his hand over where the edge of the circle was peeking out from the sleeve of his t-shirt. ‘What about it?’_

_‘You know what it is?’_

_Derek nodded. ‘It’s a soulmark. It means I have a soulmate.’_

_‘Exactly right,’ Talia said. ‘It means the universe knows there is or will be someone on the earth that’s your perfect other half. Does that scare you?’_

_‘Not really.’_ Liar _. Derek felt his heart pick up a beat, and watched a knowing glint appear in his mother’s eye._

_Sure enough, ‘Something about it does.’_

_Derek sighed and looked down to his hands. There was only one thing that would scare him about his soulmate. He had been coming to a realisation the past few months, as his friends started getting their first girlfriends. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, because he didn’t want to think he was more different than he already was. ‘What if…’ he whispered, keeping his eyes locked on his fingers, as he twisted them nervously together. ‘What if it’s a boy?’_

_‘If it’s a boy, then he’ll go through the same thing you are right now,’ Talia said gently. ‘It’s okay, Derek.’_

_‘I don’t want to be different,’ he said, voice thick, as he wiped harshly at his eyes. ‘I don’t want to.’_

_‘I know, baby,’ Talia murmured, getting out of her chair, and going over to hug him tightly. ‘But none of your differences make you any less worthy of love, if that’s what you want.’_

_‘What if he doesn’t like me?’_

_Talia sighed, pulling back to look her son in the eyes. ‘You might not start off as friends, Derek. We’re wolves, and it might take him some time to adjust to that, if he’s a human.’_

_‘Can’t I just not tell him?’_

_‘No, you have to tell him. You can’t keep secrets from your soulmate, Derek. It might be an awkward conversation –’_

_‘Like this.’_

_‘Like this,’ Talia confirmed. ‘But you have to tell him. He won’t turn you away, just like you won’t turn him away when you find him. You have to take care of each other, help each other, and make sure he doesn’t get hurt, okay? That will become your top priority, whether you realise it’s happening or not.’_

_‘I know,’ Derek nodded. ‘You and Dad are like that.’_

_Talia smiled. ‘Your father and I aren’t soulmates, Derek.’_

_‘You aren’t?’ Derek blinked. ‘But I thought…’_

_‘We’re as close to being soulmates as we could be without actually being soulmates. We used to joke that the universe just forgot to give us our marks.’_

_‘Oh.’_

_‘Just one of those things,’ Talia shrugged. ‘We might never have found each other, but you, I can guarantee, you will find your soulmate.’_

_Derek contemplated that for a moment. ‘Will I stop being scared when I find him?’_

_‘No, honey. You’ll just be scared about other things.’_

Derek opened his eyes groggily, looking out to the dull scape of his room. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and everything was just varying shades of grey and black for now. He let out a sigh and rolled onto his back. He had lost count of how many times he’d dreamt about that talk with his mother. It was like she was haunting him because she didn’t think he was doing a good enough job with Stiles.

It wasn’t like he didn’t _want_ to try with Stiles. He wanted them to be friends, or… _something_. It just felt like now wasn’t the best time. Stiles seemed to want more than friendship from Derek, and right now, he wasn’t willing to give it. Derek didn’t care if there was an exemption to the law that allowed soulmates to be together, assuming they could prove it if caught.

Derek also knew that the moment he and Stiles got together, everything would change. Not just between them, obviously, but with the pack as well. The entire dynamic would shift overnight, and the betas wouldn’t know why until they _knew_. They would probably feel a little betrayed that Derek and Stiles (mostly Derek) had kept it from them, and there might even be a little animosity shown towards Stiles for taking away the absolute protection and attention of their alpha.

Well, that might be a little dramatic, but they would know Derek would protect Stiles over them. Not just because he was his soulmate, but because Stiles was a fragile human, and as much as he liked to pretend otherwise, he could still break, bleed, and hurt.

Derek was saving them all the pain of having to deal with it, while he came up with a plan of some kind. Stiles would undoubtedly be targeted by anyone and everyone who knew about them for some reason or another, and Derek didn’t want to fight the entire world to keep them away from him. Didn’t want to, but knew at some point he would.

The entire situation could’ve been different if Stiles wasn’t human – not that Derek wanted to change it, and not that Stiles did either, from what he gathered. Had Stiles been a wolf as well, they would’ve been a force to be reckoned with. No one would dare come between them. Instead, this was the hand Derek and Stiles had been dealt – shitty luck, everything against them, and wasting time as mere acquaintances.

Derek shifted slightly, angling himself more towards the skylight over his bed. ‘Hey Mom,’ he whispered. ‘I feel so stupid talking to my ceiling right now, so this better not be for nothing, but I could really use some help with Stiles.’

He knew what his mother would say if she were here. _Follow your heart, Derek. Do what you think is best. It’s your job as an alpha to make it through._

‘I want to be with Stiles,’ Derek frowned. ‘At some point, at least, but we’re not even friends right now. I don’t know how to do this. How to build something with him, how to be _friends_ with him, when we both want more and can’t have it. So, if you’re up there, I could use a sign, or some guidance. Something.’

The last of the stars in the sky twinkled maddeningly back, like they couldn’t give less of a shit about his problems. Derek was a big believer in the universe giving signs (kinda hard not to with a mystical soulmark on his arm) but every single time he asked for one, he felt like fucking idiot just talking to his ceiling. The universe might occasionally provide, but it always made him look stupid.

Derek didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do. He felt like this was his fault. If he hadn’t been a werewolf, then he and Stiles would be together by now.

But he wasn’t human, Stiles wasn’t a wolf, and that wasn’t about to change.

Derek rolled over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, checking the time ( _5:13am_ , fuck that) and unlocking the screen. Didn’t seem like he was about to go back to sleep, so he might as well do something to occupy his wandering mind.

It seemed like the universe was in a cooperative mood, because that was when a new notification popped up.

 

**Facebook:** _Add some new friends! You’re looking lonely :(_

 

Derek huffed. ‘Rude way to go about it,’ he muttered, ‘but point taken.’

***

Derek was on his third cup of coffee when the pack arrived at his apartment for their Saturday bonding activity. He hadn’t been back to sleep, as expected, and had so far spent his entire morning feeding caffeine into his system.

‘Morning, Derek!’ Stiles grinned. ‘The sun is singing, the birds are shining, are you ready to get your baking on?’

‘Aren’t the birds supposed to be singing, not the sun?’ Derek asked, wincing at Stiles’ volume.

‘Can’t the sun sing, too?’

Derek didn’t have a response to that, except: ‘Can you just be a little quieter?’

‘Why?’ Stiles asked, his eyes hardening. ‘Long night?’

Derek sighed. ‘No. Early morning. Very early.’

‘It’s not even eleven yet.’

‘I’ve been awake for nearly six hours.’

‘You should have a nap,’ Scott suggested, turning up behind Stiles, a couple of grocery bags in each hand. ‘We can bake without you.’

‘I’m fine. Besides, I don’t trust any of you in my kitchen alone.’

‘We’re not alone if we’re all together,’ Erica piped up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘We’ll be okay without you.’

‘I am too tired to argue with you, so please just shut up and go bake,’ Derek said, taking the extra step of flashing his eyes red to make them listen.

The effect was less dramatic than intended, because the betas just rolled their eyes and headed to the kitchen, leaving Stiles behind with Derek.

‘Is, uh – can I do anything?’ Stiles asked quietly. ‘To help?’

Derek shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about me. Just tired.’

‘Are you sure? It’s not… _me_ is it?’ he whispered, not wanting the other wolves to overhear.

‘No, it’s not,’ Derek replied, equally as cautious. ‘Just make sure they don’t burn down my kitchen if I fall asleep, okay?’

‘You got it, boss,’ Stiles said, saluting and turning for the kitchen.

‘Stiles?’ Derek called.

‘Yeah?’

‘You know…’ Derek hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Never mind. I’ll be there in a moment.’

Stiles eyed him curiously. ‘Okay, sure.’

***

Baking was, as to be expected, kind of a disaster. For all their faults, the betas did manage to get a tray of cookies in the oven without destroying Derek’s kitchen entirely, but that still left them with flour _everywhere_ and about three bowls too many in the sink.

Derek had managed to avoid falling asleep on his stool in the corner, with Stiles giving a little shout over the din every now and then to keep him awake. He even brought him a refill for his coffee at one point, and a clump of cookie dough for him to taste. Derek had to admit it was pretty good, and he was actually quite proud of them for managing to crack the required eggs without getting shell into the mix as well. (Then again, they were all like sixteen, and if not one of them could crack an egg, then that was probably some sort of reflection on their generation that middle aged people would no doubt exploit the shit out of.)

While Scott and Boyd started cleaning up the kitchen, with Isaac and Erica on dishes, Stiles herded Derek out of the kitchen and towards the living room, depositing him on the couch.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Stiles asked, genuinely concerned. ‘Take a nap, seriously. You look like shit.’

Derek huffed a laugh and relaxed into the arm of the couch. ‘I’m fine. Just tired.’

‘I know, you’ve been yawning so much, I was mistaking you for a black hole appearing in the kitchen.’

‘I’ve had worse. Just a lot on my mind.’

Stiles hummed. ‘Well, you’re probably going to fall asleep soon anyway. It’s marathon day.’

‘What are we watching?’

‘Extended edition _Lord of the Rings_ boxset,’ Stiles grinned, heading over to his backpack and coming back with it in his hands, singing like a heavenly chorus as he approached the TV. ‘And everyone knows _Fellowship_ is the least action packed.’

‘Only the first half. It picks up when they leave Rivendell.’

‘Picks up when Strider pops up in the Prancing Pony like a hot murderer,’ Stiles said, sliding the first disc into the DVD player.

‘Mm, I’d hit that,’ Derek agreed. Maybe it was just because he was so tired, every blink felt like a war he was waging against his own eyelids, but Derek took a leap and followed the signs of the universe. ‘You know we can be friends, right?’ he asked quietly.

Stiles turned to him, surprise in his features. ‘Friends?’

‘Yeah, I mean…’ Derek paused to yawn again. ‘I’m not actually your alpha, if you think I have some weird power thing over you.’

‘Of course you’re my alpha,’ Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘I’m pack, and _I’m_ not the alpha.’

‘Not right now, maybe.’

If Stiles heard that, he ignored it. ‘I’m just…’ he sighed and ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. ‘Friends.’

‘Friends.’

‘ _Friends_ ,’ Stiles repeated dumbly, frowning now. ‘Won’t they get suspicious?’

Derek flicked his eyes to the kitchen doorway, where he could hear the betas fighting over something. Maybe where the bowls had come from? Derek couldn’t be bothered focusing on it to find out. ‘I’m allowed to have friends, Stiles.’

‘Yeah, but favouritism.’

‘I’m allowed a _best_ friend as well.’

‘God, the ultimate friendzone,’ Stiles muttered. ‘I don’t know. I kinda thought we were friends already, just like everyone here is friends. Like, tolerated as friends, you know?’

Derek shrugged. ‘I never – they’re coming back.’

‘The cookies,’ Scott announced, ‘are not finished.’

Stiles and Derek blinked at him in unison. ‘Thank you,’ Stiles said drily. ‘For that very important update.’

Scott took a deep bow and plopped down on the sofa, leaving a gap between himself and Derek. He looked pointedly at Stiles, then nodded to the spot on the couch. ‘Don’t you wanna sit, Stiles?’

‘Who’s in the kitchen making sure the cookies don’t burn?’

‘Isaac.’

‘I’m just gonna go supervise him doing that then,’ Stiles said, shaking his head as he went.

‘He likes you, y’know,’ Scott said quietly, so quietly Derek almost missed it. ‘Like, he _likes_ you.’

‘And?’

‘What do you mean _“and”_?’

‘I mean, what do you want me to do about it?’ Derek murmured, closing his eyes as he nestled into the couch a bit more.

‘I don’t know, be nice to him?’

‘I am nice to him.’

‘Look,’ Scott said. ‘Stiles is my best friend, and I get that you two getting together would put a giant target on his back, but could you at least make some sort of effort so he doesn’t feel like a massive inconvenience on your life?’

Derek cracked an eye open and peered at Scott. ‘He’s not an inconvenience.’

‘You’re making it seem like he is.’

‘Scott, I’m trying, okay? But this doesn’t concern you, so stay out of it.’

‘It concerns me because he is my _best friend_ , and I don’t want him to get hurt.’

‘You literally just outlined exactly what I’m doing to avoid that,’ Derek hissed. ‘He might be your best friend, but he’s my fucking _soulmate_ and he’s the only one I’ll ever get, so I’m trying not to fuck this up. Stay out of it, Scott.’

Scott raised his eyebrows, like he wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure if it would result in him getting kicked out before he had the chance to eat cookies. ‘I just want what’s best for him.’

‘So the _fuck_ do I.’ Derek sat up with an angry sigh, fully out of whatever nap he had been slipping into. ‘Look, I’m glad he has you, but when it comes to _us_ , do not try to tell me what to do. I’m doing what I can.’

Scott narrowed his eyes in a way that screamed _Try harder!_ before his line of vision drifted over Derek’s shoulder towards the kitchen.

‘They’re done,’ Stiles said, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms. ‘The kitchen is even fully intact.’

Derek turned his head, immediately gathering by Stiles’ expression that he had some idea of what he and Scott were arguing about. Well. Not arguing, as such, but definitely not having a pleasant conversation.

‘I’ve put mine aside, so if you two idiots want to burn the insides of your throats like the other idiots in the kitchen, you can go right ahead,’ Stiles continued, gesturing into the kitchen. ‘Or at least put some aside for yourselves as well. Isaac has already had two and I only pulled them out about forty seconds ago.’

Scott grinned and hopped up, sauntering to the kitchen, and giving Derek a self-satisfied smirk.

Stiles stopped him before he could get in the door, however, whispering something that very quickly wiped it right back off his face. He waited for Scott to nod meekly, before stepping aside and letting him in, then coming back to the couch.

‘Guessing you heard that,’ Derek muttered.

‘No,’ Stiles said tiredly. ‘Not at all. I just know Scott well enough to have figured it out. He wants you to try harder to like me, doesn’t he?’

‘Something like that, yeah,’ Derek agreed. ‘Do you really think I feel like you’re an inconvenience?’

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that what he said?’ At Derek’s nod, Stiles rolled his eyes in disbelief. ‘I never said that. I said you’re kind of… hot and cold. Texting me as one person, then being someone completely different in person. Whiplash, whatever.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay, I get why –’

‘It’s not okay. I’m just… not good at this.’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles said, giving him a small smile. ‘I kinda picked up on that.’

***

The rest of the day was uneventful, for the most part. The pack crowded into the living room area, folding themselves into beanbags and armchairs, or fighting Stiles and Derek for space on the couch, and watched _Lord of the Rings._ There was a brief break to argue about ordering pizza with or without pineapple (Derek actually had to go Full Alpha Mode™ to put an end to that – and order without the damn pineapple) before resuming the second disc of _Two Towers_ when it arrived. Later, they made popcorn and watched _Return of the King_ , with Erica sitting in front of Stiles on the floor, who tried his best to braid her hair in the style favoured by Legolas.

And that was pretty much it. No more arguments, no more deep and meaningful conversations, no more angsty sighs. Most of the pack either left to go home, or wandered upstairs to the guest bedrooms to crash for the night, eventually leaving Stiles and Derek downstairs by themselves, as the designated cleaners.

‘Hey, would you mind if I came over on Monday? After school?’ Stiles asked.

Derek looked up in surprise, as he paused in collecting unpopped corn kernels from where Isaac had been arranging them artfully under the coffee table. ‘Why?’

Stiles nodded towards the bookcase in the corner. ‘Needa do some reading.’

‘Homework?’

‘Uh, not exactly. You just have some more trustworthy stuff on werewolves up there.’

‘Werewolves?’

‘Potentially real mythological creatures in general, really. It’s probably a good idea to be prepared in case anything turns up.’

Derek went back to Isaac’s kernel masterpiece as he considered it. Maybe this was the universe offering him a chance to actually work on their friendship. ‘Sure,’ Derek said, dumping a handful of kernels in the empty popcorn bowl beside him. ‘That’s a good idea.’

‘Great!’ Stiles said brightly. ‘Make sure you have snacks. Research makes me hungry.’

‘Everything makes you hungry.’

‘Yeah, it’s almost like I need food to do daily activities.’

Derek rolled his eyes and threw a kernel at Stiles. ‘Asshole.’

Stiles grinned. ‘Thanks for letting us hijack your apartment again.’

‘It’s pack, I don’t mind,’ Derek shrugged and stood up with his collection of trash. ‘Besides, it’s good for me to have some noise back in my life. It’s been too quiet for too long.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Stiles asked tentatively, following Derek to the kitchen with his hands full of cups.

Derek shook his head. ‘Now’s not the time. Are you staying here?’

‘Yeah, I think there’s a room left. Gonna borrow some toothpaste, though, I can’t sleep without brushing – _shit._ ’

‘You okay?’ Derek turned to where Stiles was standing at the sink, cautiously sniffing the air to see if Stiles had cut himself on a knife left in the basin or something. ‘Stiles?’

‘My pillow.’

‘What?’

‘I left it at home. Me and Scott didn’t think we’d be staying, so I didn’t think I’d need it.’

‘Are you serious?’ Derek groaned. ‘It’s a pillow.’

‘Yeah, _my_ pillow,’ Stiles frowned. ‘Well, I guess I’m gonna get a head start on that reading, because I won’t be sleeping tonight.’

‘If you want…’ Derek paused, considering the implications of the offer he was about to make. Hopefully this wouldn’t blow their carefully maintained platonic relationship out of the water. ‘Only if you want, you could sleep in my bed?’

‘In your bed?’

‘Yeah.’

‘With you?’

‘Studies have shown that people sleep better with a pet in or on their bed. Something about feeling safer and reducing anxiety due to proximity. Might help with the pillow issue.’

‘You’re not a pet, though,’ Stiles pointed out. ‘You’re a person.’

‘Yeah, but I’m also your soulmate, and surely you’ve read some article about how that would create a similar situation of alleviating anxiety, but the pack might look at you a little weird if they find you in my bed, so you’ll probably need to get out before they wake up.’

‘Uh, why?’

‘You’ll smell like me. And you’ll be in my bed.’

‘Won’t I smell like you anyway if I leave your bed?’

‘Yeah, but we can cover that up. I’ll let you borrow a shirt or something for clean clothes tomorrow morning.’ Derek’s heart was close to beating out of his chest the more he thought about being so close to Stiles, and he’d never been so happy Stiles was human and couldn’t hear it.

Stiles hummed thoughtfully. ‘We could give it a go.’

‘Okay. Turn off the lights behind you,’ Derek turned and headed upstairs, doing his best not to completely freak out because Stiles was about to get into his bed, and sleep. With him. Damn Derek’s soft spot for Stiles.

There was a loud bang as Stiles moved through the living area, apparently stubbing his toe on something, if the muttered _“Why couldn’t the werewolf with night vision turn off the fucking lights?”_ was anything to go by.

Derek went straight down the hall to his bedroom and its ensuite, knowing Stiles would use the guest bathroom and the toiletries stashed there for when the pack stayed over. Derek zipped through his before bed routine just in time to hear a quiet knock on his door. He padded across and opened it as gently as he could to avoid waking the others, waving Stiles through, and closing it again.

Stiles had never been in his room before, and he was quiet as he looked around, taking it in – the bookcase with photos and plants interspersed with paperbacks, the doors leading to the wardrobe and bathroom, the geometric canvas print leaning against the wall, and Derek’s bed, with its “rustic” headboard consisting of bleached branches.

‘Cosy,’ Stiles whispered, looking pointedly at the antlers on the wall above Derek’s bed.

‘Thanks, killed it myself,’ Derek replied, climbing into bed.

‘Seriously?’

Derek grinned. ‘No. I went in to buy the bed, and the saleswoman wouldn’t stop telling me that they went “so well with that style of décor” so I bought them just to make her stop talking.’

‘Solid plan,’ Stiles agreed.

He looked like he didn’t know what to do now, so Derek sighed and pulled back the covers on the empty side of the bed, acting as nonchalant about the entire situation as he could. ‘Are you done? Can we go to sleep now?’

Stiles scurried over, getting into bed and letting Derek drop the covers back down. ‘This is, uh. Nice.’

‘Nice,’ Derek repeated.

‘So… goodnight,’ Stiles said, turning so his back was to Derek.

‘Yeah,’ Derek said. ‘Night.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ever had a notification from facebook telling you to get more friends? yeah it's definitely a way to make u feel better about ur social life i totally recommend it >:(


	3. Purely Theoretical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’re a grumpy old man,’ Stiles insisted. ‘Spry for your age, I’ll give you that.’  
> Derek rolled his eyes. ‘The day you stop talking shit is the day I’m throwing a party.’  
> ‘I’ll stop talking shit when I’m _dead_.’  
>  Derek blinked. ‘Exactly.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the fastest i think i have ever updated lmao. shout out 2 me

When Derek woke up, before he opened his eyes, the first thing he was conscious of was the way his body was curled around another, soft and warm under his hands. He hugged it closer, not wanting to wake up and face the fact that he’d betrayed Stiles and –

 _Stiles_.

Derek shot up, looking down to the sleeping boy beside him. ‘Shit,’ he hissed, slapping Stiles’ arm as he looked up to the skylight. It was around dawn, with faint orange streaks making their way through the last of the night sky. ‘Stiles, wake up.’

Stiles groaned and cracked an eye open. ‘What?’

‘Get up, the pack will be waking up soon,’ he said, sliding out of bed and going to his wardrobe to find a shirt for Stiles. The other wolves wouldn’t think anything of Stiles borrowing a shirt, seeing as most of them had all done the same at one point or another.

‘So?’ Stiles grumbled. ‘I’m so comfy right now.’

‘I literally don’t care, they can’t find you in my bed when they know I have a soulmate.’

‘Why not just tell them?’

‘They can’t know, not now. Not yet.’ Derek tossed the first shirt he could find at Stiles and hurriedly dressed himself. ‘Get up!’

‘God, you’re such a killjoy,’ Stiles said, throwing the covers back and changing his shirt, still half-asleep. ‘That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.’

Derek’s heart melted a little, because that was exactly what the point of this had been, and he was glad he could still say his offer had been completely innocent. ‘That’s something, at least.’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles agreed, a little more awake now. ‘Were you spooning me?’

‘Does it matter if I was?’

‘Was it on purpose?’

Derek sighed, recognising a lost battle. ‘No.’

Stiles smiled smugly. ‘You _spooned_ me.’

‘Oh my God, get out of my room,’ Derek said, fighting to keep a smile from his own face. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs. You can help me make breakfast.’

‘What are we having? Bacon? Pancakes? Waffles? All three?’

‘We’re having whatever is left in my fridge. Close the door behind you.’

‘That doesn’t sound promising!’ Stiles whisper-yelled, as Derek headed downstairs.

As Derek walked past the bedroom doors, he took a moment to listen to each of the pack’s heartbeats and breathing. They might be early risers, but if they were sleeping, the apartment could probably collapse around them, and they would be none the wiser. Down in the kitchen, Derek started looking through the food left in the cupboards. He was disturbed in his perusing by the lights being flipped on overhead.

‘Why are you standing here in the dark like an idiot?’ Stiles asked, heading directly to make some coffee.

‘Because I can see in the dark,’ Derek said. The light coming through the window was more than enough for him to see by. ‘Night vision, remember?’

‘Hmm. What’s for food?’

‘Pretzels and almonds.’

‘Seriously?’

Derek looked to Stiles and made direct eye contact as he slammed three bottles of pancake mix on the bench. ‘No.’

Stiles looked up, like he was praying for guidance. ‘Your sense of humour sucks.’

Derek grinned. ‘Get used to it. You’re stuck with me.’

Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottles of pancake mix, starting to add the required amount of liquid. ‘God help me, being stuck with you.’

‘One day you’ll _love_ it.’

‘Cool, cool, cool.’

‘No doubt, no doubt, no doubt,’ Derek added. ‘How do you think you make syrup?’

‘What? Derek, no, you can’t have no syrup?’

Derek bit his lip and he slid another bottle onto the bench next to the pancake mixes. ‘Kidding.’

‘Dude, _no_ ,’ Stiles groaned. ‘You have got to stop doing that.’

‘No, I don’t. It’s hilarious.’

‘It’s not hilarious, you’re just an asshole.’

Derek laughed and took out a couple of large frying pans to get started on the pancakes. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, you aren’t. Got any bananas? I want to slice some up for on the pancakes,’ Stiles said, putting the three prepared bottles beside Derek’s elbow.

‘Yeah, there should be some in the fruit bowl, but don’t do too many, because they won’t get used.’

‘We could always sneak some mashed into the pancake mix,’ Stiles mused, pausing in horror with the banana bunch in his hands. ‘Oh my God, I sound like a parent trying to trick their kids into eating vegetables.’

‘Bananas are really good for you. Full of potassium. Good for parties. We should do it,’ Derek paused, turning to face Stiles. ‘We’re parenting the pack.’

‘We’re parenting the pack,’ Stiles agreed quietly. ‘I’m the pack mom. I’m too young to have kids, Derek!’

‘It was bound to happen eventually,’ Derek sighed. ‘Bananas in the pancakes, yes or no?’

Stiles looked sadly to the bunch of bananas still in his hands, then broke a few off. ‘Nah, too much effort.’

‘Irresponsible parenting,’ Derek muttered, dropping a bit of butter into each pan, ready to start making the pancakes. ‘Coffee done yet?’

‘Yep, two sugars, right?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’

It was all very… domestic, and _fuck_ , Derek wanted this. He wanted to wake up on a Sunday morning, Stiles in his arms, watching the sky slowly bleed red through the skylight as the sun rose, then bumble about the kitchen making breakfast. In theory, Derek _could_ have this. He could have the humming, soft smiles, the coffee made by someone else. He could have Stiles wearing his Superman shirt, a little too big and slipping down his shoulder, smelling like him, and hair messy from sleep.

Derek just wished he could have it and not need to think about what the consequences might be, or what it _means_ to have Stiles with him like that. He wished he could brush past Stiles and let his fingertips linger a little too long on his waist, he wished he could bump him and not have to pretend it was an accident. Derek wanted it all so bad, it was like his heart was aching from it.

Derek wanted it, but he wouldn’t have it freely. He _couldn’t_.

‘Derek?’ Stiles asked gently. ‘Are you okay?’

Derek blinked, looking down to where his claws had slipped out without his realising, slowly carving their way into the stone of the counter. ‘I’m fine,’ he croaked. ‘Just… I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ Stiles placed his hand on Derek’s uncertainly, taking it from the bench and touching his claws lightly. ‘I know these don’t just pop out because you’re not concentrating.’

Derek retracted his claws, so Stiles was just touching the tips of his fingers instead. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Stiles said, letting go of Derek’s hand. ‘What happened?’

Derek shook his head. ‘Just having an epiphany.’

‘About?’

Derek shook his head again, silently pouring pancake batter into each pan. He didn’t need to burden Stiles with his thoughts, not now.

‘Was it…’ Stiles lowered his voice. ‘Was it about our thing?’ he asked, flicking his eyes to Derek’s arm meaningfully.

‘Something like that,’ Derek conceded.

‘I get it,’ Stiles nodded. ‘One day, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Derek mumbled, turning back to the pans. ‘One day.’

‘One day what?’ Scott interrupted, coming into the kitchen and heading directly for the coffee maker to pour himself a cup. ‘I could smell food.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Stiles said, taking the reins of the conversation. ‘What do you want on your pancakes?’

‘Got any chocolate chips?’

Stiles blinked. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yeah?’

Derek huffed in amusement. ‘Don’t worry, haven’t got any. They all went in those cookies yesterday.’

‘Thank God for that,’ Stiles muttered, bringing over a plate for Derek to start stacking finished pancakes onto. ‘We’d be terrible parents if we let the kids cover their pancakes in chocolate chips and syrup.’

Derek snorted attractively, and tried covering it by coughing loudly, but Scott rolled his eyes and took a long sip from his mug, so clearly it didn’t work.

‘Nice shirt, Stiles,’ Scott added.

‘Thanks, I grew it myself,’ Stiles said, taking over the cooking, while Derek’s fake coughing fit turned into a real one. ‘Derek, Jesus Christ, do you need some water?’

Derek waved his hand dismissively. ‘Fine,’ he gasped. ‘Completely fine.’

‘Yeah, that’s real convincing,’ Scott said, making absolutely no move to help him in any way. ‘Hey, if you die, who becomes alpha?’

‘I don’t think you want the answer to that,’ Derek said, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his coffee.

‘No, I’m actually quite interested now. I wanna know who’s gonna own my ass.’

‘Allison owns your ass,’ Stiles pointed out. ‘You’re so whipped.’

‘Who owns my _werewolf_ ass, then.’

‘Technically, it would be Stiles,’ Derek said, clearing his throat once more, and taking another sip of coffee.

‘Me?’ Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows.

Derek shrugged. ‘Conversation for another day. Pack just woke up.’

‘But I don’t _want_ Stiles to own my ass,’ Scott whined.

‘Stiles can own _my_ ass,’ Isaac said, appearing in the doorway, as he rubbed his eyes with a yawn.

‘Thank you, Isaac,’ Stiles said graciously. ‘See? That’s what a good friend would say. You’ve been replaced, Scott.’

‘Wait, what are we talking about?’ Isaac asked, staring mournfully at the empty coffee pot. ‘Can someone please work this thing for me?’

Derek sighed and went over to start another round of coffee for Isaac, who smiled dopily at him as he pressed the start button. ‘Are _you_ going to have bananas on your pancakes?’ he asked, ignoring Isaac’s original question.

Isaac blinked. ‘Is that a thing?’

‘Honestly,’ Stiles said, before Derek could even open his mouth to voice a similar sentiment. ‘If we weren’t here to feed you guys, you’d all be living off pudding cups, I swear.’

‘I could live off pudding cups,’ Scott said thoughtfully. ‘Delicious and nutritious.’

‘That doesn’t sound entirely right, but I don’t know enough about pudding cups to dispute it. Derek is going to outlive all of you, and he’s practically an old man.’

Derek turned to stare at Stiles as he added two more pancakes to the growing pile. ‘I’m not that old.’

‘You’re a grumpy old man,’ Stiles insisted. ‘Spry for your age, I’ll give you that.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘The day you stop talking shit is the day I’m throwing a party.’

‘I’ll stop talking shit when I’m _dead_.’

Derek blinked. ‘Exactly.’

Stiles’ jaw dropped. ‘I can’t believe you just said that. I am a valued member of this pack.’

‘And I’m sure you died a noble death to protect it.’

‘Yeah, or because someone made a stupid mistake and got me hurt instead, right?’

The dig was light enough that the pack members unaware of their bond wouldn’t get suspicious, but specific enough for Derek to know what Stiles meant. ‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ Stiles agreed. ‘I’m quite enjoying breathing, thanks.’

‘Who threatened to kill Stiles?’ Erica asked as she entered the kitchen, Boyd close behind her. ‘We missed a lot of this conversation, but I really didn’t think we missed _that_ much.’

‘No death threats yet today,’ Stiles smiled. ‘But, y’know, it is only morning.’

***

Stiles made it all through Sunday and Monday without dying, or receiving any death threats (not that Derek had been expecting any, but it was good to know all the same), and seemed without a care in the world as he strolled into Derek’s apartment for his research date, backpack slung over his shoulder, and loudly proclaimed that Derek better have some damn snacks in this place.

Derek popped his head out of the kitchen and gave Stiles and incredulous look. ‘You think I don’t have snacks?’

Stiles frowned and sniffed the air. ‘Are you _cooking_ in there?’

Derek grinned and ducked back into the kitchen, waiting for Stiles to follow his nose and join him there. ‘“Research makes me hungry,”’ Derek said, in a perfect imitation of Stiles’ indignant tone.

‘I said have snacks, not “make me a four course meal”.’

Okay. Maybe Derek had gone a little overboard, looking around his kitchen at the stacks of Tupperware bowls (which he had to _buy_ ) but he was not taking full responsibility for this. He had gone to the grocery store to buy snacks, but something in Derek had taken over and accidentally bought the ingredients for several different meals. He didn’t know what Stiles would feel like, so he just… bought everything.

Not to say Derek’s wolfy, providing instincts had gone into overdrive and taken _complete_ control, because he also bought a bunch of snacks, as Stiles had requested. So he had all this food, a confused teenage soulmate, and way too much food for even the _pack_ to eat. At least Derek had a huge freezer to chuck it all in.

Derek could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks as he looked around his kitchen, understanding that Stiles would know none of this, and it would just look like Derek had gone on some weird, domestic trip. ‘I know what this looks like,’ he started awkwardly. ‘I may have gone a little overboard.’

‘A little?’ Stiles raised an eyebrow as he looked at the containers. ‘It looks like you’re stockpiling in preparation for war.’

‘You don’t have to eat any of it, I did buy you actual snacks as well.’

‘You made all of this _and_ got me snacks? I could marry you.’ Stiles snapped his mouth shut, because he had _not_ meant to say that. ‘Not right now, I mean –’

‘No, not right now, of course,’ Derek said quickly. ‘Uh, so what do you want?’

‘What are my options?’ Stiles asked, coming a little further into the kitchen and looking into the containers covering most of the spare surface area. ‘Because something smells _really_ good.’

‘Uh…’ Derek scratched the back of his neck, glad Stiles was taking this so well and actually not making fun of him for it. ‘There’s ribs, lasagne, salad in the fridge, pasta, roast vegetables… sesame chicken is somewhere. I made a cheesecake. And then I’ve got Doritos and some M&Ms.’

‘Oh my God,’ Stiles breathed. ‘Scratch that, I _could_ marry you right now.’

The wolf in Derek preened at Stiles’ clear gratitude. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit much?’

‘Oh, no, definitely a bit much,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Just… I can’t believe you did that.’

‘It was an accident.’

‘It had something to do with the instinct to provide, right? Scott is always getting Allison food, or giving him part of hers, and he doesn’t even seem to realise he’s doing it.’

Derek nodded. ‘By the time I got to the checkout, I didn’t even know how much stuff I put in the cart.’

Stiles nodded back, slowly making his way to the cutlery drawer and taking out a fork. He glanced at Derek as he made his way to the fridge to get a drink (iced coffee – which Derek had _also_ bought without realising, but knew it was Stiles’ favourite when he put it on the conveyor belt to pay for it) and picked up a container of sesame chicken, making his way to the living room without another word.

Derek smiled to himself, as he got a glass of water and a box of pasta, following Stiles to where he had set up camp on the table next to the bookshelves.

‘This is so good,’ Stiles said around a mouthful of chicken and rice. ‘I didn’t know you could cook.’

Derek frowned. ‘I cook all the time.’

‘Not for the pack.’

‘Do you know how much food it would take to feed the pack?’

‘Less than you seem to think it would take to feed me,’ Stiles shrugged. ‘Not that I’m complaining.’

‘You can take some home with you, if you want. I don’t think I have room for all of it.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I mean, I made it for _you_ so… might as well.’

Stiles gave a small smile, ducking his head a little as he poked his food around. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ Derek replied, popping a piece of pasta in his mouth. ‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’ Stiles contemplated that for a moment. ‘Purely theoretical, but what changes between a werewolf and their soulmate once it’s… official?’

Derek almost wanted to shut down this entire conversation, but he knew Stiles was more than likely just asking because he was curious, not to try and force a reaction out of him. ‘Not much, really. A few things are different, like scents become less distinguishable to the individual. Sometimes there’s a claiming bite, or a claiming _ceremony_ , but it doesn’t make too much different whether the couple doing it are soulmates or just… mates, I guess. My parents never talked about it, which I’m kind of glad for, really.’

‘So there’s no weird stuff that has to happen?’

Derek cleared his throat awkwardly, and he found himself thankful yet again that Stiles couldn’t hear the way his heart picked up. ‘Can’t some stuff stay a mystery?’

Stiles raised his eyebrows. ‘What are you hiding from me? What ultra-weird thing am I gonna have to endure one day? Do I need to kill a deer for you or something?’

‘Kill a deer for me?’ Derek laughed. ‘Stiles, no one needs to kill anything for anyone.’

‘Okay, good. That was my main concern,’ Stiles grinned. ‘You know, this entire situation with us, knowing what we are but not doing anything about it… kinda feels like an arranged marriage.’

‘I suppose it is an arranged marriage, of sorts.’

‘Even in arranged marriages they sometimes canoodled, didn’t they? Like back when it was about _betrothals_ , meeting as six year olds, growing up knowing you would marry this person, whatever.’

‘Canoodled?’

‘Yeah. Why can’t we canoodle?’

Derek looked up at Stiles from his nearly empty container of pasta. ‘Haven’t we been over this?’

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Not until it’s legal, I know. But you want this, right?’

‘Stiles,’ Derek said softly. ‘We’ve definitely been over _that_.’

‘Great, well, I want this as well, so… Can’t we just do it? A little? A tiny bit of canoodling?’

‘No, I’m sorry. I won’t put you at risk like that.’

‘ _Canoodling_ won’t put me at risk.’

‘If anyone catches wind of it – literally – it will, and I haven’t figured out how to… make it work. Not yet. You can go off and canoodle with other people, but it’s too risky right now, okay?’

Stiles huffed. ‘I don’t want to canoodle with other people.’

‘Canoodle by yourself, then.’

‘Canoodling by yourself isn’t canoodling. It’s like… cadoodling.’

‘Please never say “cadoodling” ever again,’ Derek groaned. ‘Can we just put this conversation on the back burner?’

‘I suppose,’ Stiles frowned. ‘Is there _nothing_ we could do that would make it easier to canoodle? Or cadoodle _together_?’

Derek gave him a flat look as he stood to take his empty container to the kitchen, holding out a hand for Stiles’ as well. ‘There is one thing.’

‘Which is?’

‘You take the bite.’

‘The claiming bite?’

Derek flashed his eyes red. ‘ _The_ bite.’

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘No thank you.’

‘Exactly,’ Derek said, heading to the kitchen. Once there, he rinsed the empty food boxes and stacked them beside his sink to be dealt with later. He paused, looking out the window and taking a moment to get his wits back.

Fucking Stiles, honestly. He had to bring up the soulmates thing, when Derek was doing his best to ignore it. If Stiles was having trouble, he should imagine what Derek was going through – having to be around him so much, being able to _smell_ how compatible they were, because Stiles’ scent was warm where Derek’s was cold. Cinnamon and vanilla to Derek’s mint and ice, and something so distinctly _Stiles_ that made it so heady, Derek sometimes found himself feeling like he needed fresh air, even though he didn’t want it.

Stiles didn’t have a dead parent – a dead _alpha_ – telling him he should be doing better with his soulmate. Stiles didn’t have to worry about someone trying to kidnap Derek because he was weak and seen as a target. Stiles didn’t have to analyse every single thing that would go into building a relationship with his soulmate. All of it came down to Derek.

Derek who so badly wanted to touch Stiles like he needed. Derek who had been preparing for his soulmate basically his entire life.

Derek took a deep breath to centre himself. He didn’t know how long he would be able to keep up this charade of self-control. Maybe Stiles would get his damn canoodling sooner than either of them thought. Derek grabbed the bag of M&Ms from his cupboard as a peace offering, and headed back to the not-quite-library.

Stiles looked up when he heard the candy shake gently with Derek’s movements. There was a large book in front of him, and he had been reading something intently before he realised Derek was there. ‘Are those to bribe me so I won’t ask you what a “knot” is?’

Derek stiffened and dropped the bag on the table. ‘They are now.’

Stiles shrugged and grabbed the bag. ‘Good thing there’s a definition right here…’ he trailed off. ‘Oh.’

Derek rolled his eyes and started grabbing books off the shelves that might interest Stiles in his quest for knowledge. ‘Thoughts on that?’

‘Sounds fun.’ Stiles popped the bag and shoved a few M&Ms in his mouth. ‘It’s not _every_ time, is it?’

‘No, shouldn’t be,’ Derek said. ‘Are you taking notes?’

Stiles looked down to the notebook in front of him in surprise, like he hadn’t put it there. ‘Not on that I’m not. Hah, _not_.’

‘Can you shut up? Please?’

‘Definitely. You don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want. I can read on my own.’

‘I know,’ Derek said, turning back to the shelves and pulling down a faded Dan Brown paperback. ‘Was going to keep you company, if you want.’

‘Oh,’ Stiles smiled. ‘Yeah, I’d like that. Also, it means your neighbours don’t have to hear facts like it can last for up to an _hour_.’

‘What can?’

‘The – y’know. The thing.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘I really hope you’re not going to sit there telling me facts about werewolf sex.’

‘You might not know them, though,’ Stiles said, shrugging a little too jerkily for it to be considered casual. ‘I’m just trying to educate and inform.’

‘You know who you should educate and inform about this stuff?’

‘You?’

Derek grinned. ‘Scott.’

Stiles paused. Blinked. ‘I’m moving on from this chapter now.’

‘Good idea.’

Derek kicked his feet up onto a spare chair and cracked open the book to begin reading. It was comfortable now Stiles had stopped discussing werewolf anatomy. Occasionally, Stiles would jot something down, the pen scratching pleasantly against his paper, and combined with the smells wafting from the pages of each book he opened, the entire atmosphere had Derek feeling very relaxed.

This. This was what he wanted. This felt right.

He glanced up to watch Stiles, who was reading and looking enraptured at every word to pass his eyes. The sun coming from the window behind him was lighting his hair and giving him almost a halo.

 _Hell yeah_ , Derek thought. _This is what it’s about_.

Derek just smiled to himself and went back to his book, happy and content.

By the time Stiles decided it was time for him to leave, the apartment was almost dark. ‘Is it okay if I leave the books like this?’ he asked, as Derek flipped on a light, nearly blinding them both. ‘I have a system going and don’t want to lose my place.’

‘That’s fine,’ Derek nodded. ‘If you want to come back tomorrow or whenever, they’ll be in the same place.’

‘Thanks. It’s all really interesting. Kinda concerning how many things exactly would like to kill us and eat our eyes for jujubes, but y’know. Interesting.’

Derek frowned. ‘Did you just quote _Avatar_ to me? Blue people movie?’

‘They’re called the _Na’vi_ ,’ Stiles corrected. ‘I didn’t think you’d pick up on it.’

‘It wasn’t subtle.’

‘It was _plenty_ subtle. Also, did you say I could take some food home?’

‘Yeah, help yourself,’ Derek said, waving his hand towards the kitchen. ‘There’s a few clean containers left on the bench if you want to take some cheesecake too.’

‘Dude, I love cheesecake,’ Stiles breathed.

‘I know.’

Stiles grinned and darted off to the kitchen, coming back with a stack of about six boxes in his hands. ‘Are you sure this is okay?’

Derek nodded. ‘It’s fine. Just return the boxes in case I _accidentally_ mom you again.’

Stiles laughed. ‘Okay. I’ll be back tomorrow to go through some more of those books.’

‘I’ll be here,’ Derek said, giving a half-hearted smile as Stiles left, the front door clanging shut behind him.

Derek looked around with a soft sigh. It was too quiet here now. Too big. Too empty without Stiles to fill the space.

Derek wished he didn’t have to leave.


	4. The Rule of Threes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek thought maybe if the DJ was playing something else – Céline Dion or whatever – then this could maybe be considered romantic.  
> Then again, they might’ve been grinding a little too much for it to be considered more romantic than exhibitionism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops been a bit longer than i intended. i ended up having to rewrite this chapter because i spent like a solid week just staring at it. anyway.

It was well into October when things started going downhill.

For quite a while now, Stiles had been coming over almost every day to do his “pre-emptive research”, as he was referring to it, and Derek was about 83% sure that Stiles had read every book at least once. Maybe twice. The notebook he brought with him was _just_ this side of full, every page filled with Stiles’ barely legible scrawl, and the occasional diagram to help explain something a bit better. Derek spent most of his time reading while Stiles was there, and occasionally the latter would break the silence and ask him to clarify something, but usually, they just sat in comfortable silence.

Thankfully, Derek hadn’t felt the urge to cook for Stiles quite like the first time he came over, but there was now a section of his pantry reserved for the snacks he bought for Stiles. By some miracle, the pack hadn’t found them, and Derek was dreading the day they did, because then his carefully curated selection would be absolutely decimated.

Stiles was the exception, given that they were _his_ snacks, and every time he arrived at Derek’s apartment, the first thing he did was go to them and pick something out, before getting straight to work on his notes. Or whatever it was he was doing.

‘You must really like that book,’ Derek said, a couple of days after he noticed Stiles reading “ _Where Wolves? A History of Pack Lands, Leadership, and Distinguishing Features in the Americas”_ for the third time.

‘It’s… interesting,’ Stiles said, looking unconvinced as he glanced up to Derek. ‘Very informative.’

‘I bet,’ Derek nodded. ‘You know, if you’re just looking for something to do so you can still come over, I’d prefer you did homework, rather than reading a book probably thirty years out of date.’

Stiles huffed and closed the book, pushing it aside. ‘You don’t mind if I hang out here?’

‘Of course not. I don’t want you to get behind on school because you’re pretending to read the same book over and over.’

‘Great, because I don’t _want_ to pretend to read the same book over and over, so I’ll remember that for next time.’

‘Won’t next time just be tomorrow?’

‘No, can’t tomorrow.’ Stiles blushed slightly, his heart picking up a little, so it seemed he wished it was. ‘Promised Scott we could hang out. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve sort of been spending all my spare time here.’

Derek shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Neither do I, but… The pack will get suspicious if we do this too much, even if I _do_ have a valid reason to be here.’

‘The pack should mind their own business,’ Derek muttered. ‘Not like they don’t spend their entire weekend here as well.’

‘I know,’ Stiles nodded, starting to gather his books and pens. ‘I should go, but I’ll see you Saturday for pack time, right?’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Erica is having too much fun with the bonding. She said she’s organising a “festive” scavenger hunt.’

‘If one of the items is a rabbit carcass, I’m not doing it.’

‘She wouldn’t put a rabbit on the list,’ Derek said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe a squirrel.’

‘Even better, we can climb trees and fall to our deaths.’

‘No one is going to fall to their death, Stiles.’

‘Yeah? How good are you at climbing trees?’ Stiles asked, starting to repack his bag.

‘It doesn’t matter how good I am at climbing trees. If I jump down, it’s not going to kill me,’ Derek said, shutting his book and putting it on the floor beside the couch.

‘That didn’t answer my question.’

‘I’m great at climbing trees. Better?’

‘Much, thanks. I’ll see you later,’ Stiles said, giving a cheery wave from the door as he left.

Derek sighed as it shut with a clang. ‘I look forward to it,’ he muttered to the empty room.

***

Stiles was one of the last to arrive at Derek’s Saturday morning. That fact was made only slightly better by him not being alone, as Scott and Allison walked in meekly behind him.

Erica gave them a sour look as she tapped the non-existent watch on her wrist. ‘You’re almost twenty minutes late.’

‘Not my fault,’ Stiles said immediately. ‘I had to pick them up and they took _forever_.’

‘Doesn’t matter whose fault it is,’ Erica sniffed and straightened the papers in her hands. ‘We’re splitting up. I’ve nominated teams because I want to win, so Scott and Allison are together, Derek and Stiles are together, then it’s me, Boyd, and Isaac. Any questions?’

‘Yeah, why do you think you’re going to win?’ Scott asked. ‘Because you’re in a team of three?’

‘No,’ Erica grinned. ‘You and Allison will get distracted by each other and end up making out in a bush, probably, and Stiles and Derek don’t like each other, and will spend the entire time arguing.’

Stiles and Derek shared a sideways glance. ‘So you’re forcing us together why?’ Stiles asked, even though he and Derek were actually… friends. Kind of.

‘Because teamwork, blah blah,’ Erica shrugged. ‘Here we have lists. Photographic proof is required for every item, and we’re meeting back here at about midday for lunch.’

‘It’s like nine in the morning,’ Isaac frowned. ‘What if we’re hungry before then?’

‘Take snacks.’

Isaac looked hopefully towards Derek, who rolled his eyes. ‘There’s fruit in the kitchen, and granola bars next to the fridge.’

‘We’re _wolves_ ,’ Scott whined. ‘You want us to eat fruit and oats?’

‘I eat it, so yes.’

The betas grumbled, but headed off to the kitchen, returning with bulging pockets. Isaac had an apple in his teeth and another in his left hand where it wouldn’t fit in his jacket. Erica handed out the lists and shuffled everyone to the door, reminding them when to be back, sounding enthusiastic enough for the whole pack.

‘You all go get a head start,’ Derek said, pulling on the hood of Stiles’ jacket to stop him leaving. ‘You’ll need it to beat us.’

The betas huffed and rolled their eyes, leaving and closing the door. Derek held a finger up for Stiles to be quiet, until he was certain they’d all gone down in the elevator. ‘You can grab some snacks if you want. I need to go upstairs for a moment.’

‘Snacks?’ Stiles asked. ‘Actual snack, snacks?’

Derek shrugged. ‘You can have granola bars and fruit too, if you want.’

‘Uh, not today,’ Stiles said. ‘Hurry up with whatever you’re doing upstairs, I don’t want to lose.’

Derek headed up, quickly going to his room to grab a jacket for himself and an extra layer for Stiles. It was a split-second decision, but Derek knew Stiles would get cold out in the woods, because he always did.

‘That for me?’ Stiles asked, as soon as he spotted Derek with the sweater over his arm.

‘If you need it.’

Stiles grinned and held his hands out for Derek to throw it to him. ‘It’s so soft.’

‘Don’t get any ideas, it’s because you’re a human ice cube,’ Derek grumbled. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘Yep,’ Stiles nodded, heading for the door and studying the item list.

Stiles maintained his silence until they got to the jeep, passing the paper to Derek so he could drive them to the preserve. His car might be a piece of shit, but _no one_ was going to drive it except him. Or, well, Derek wasn’t going to drive it. Stiles had a feeling that he would forget that the jeep was a delicate and temperamental piece of machinery that would inevitably give up on life the second someone other than himself sat behind the wheel.

Anyway.

‘Did Erica tweak this list?’ Derek asked, frowning suspiciously at the items he and Stiles were supposed to gather.

‘Not sure,’ Stiles said, as they pulled up to the preserve and parked beside Allison’s car. ‘Okay, ground rules.’

‘Ground rules?’

‘Yes, we’re setting ground rules.’

‘For what?’

Stiles gestured vaguely in the air, like Derek was supposed to know what that meant. ‘Things.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Sure. What rules for things?’

‘Okay, I know we’re out in nature and you might feel the call of the wild, but we’re not allowed to canoodle. Also, we’re not allowed to yell at each other or storm off, because I might get lost and I really don’t want to die out here.’

‘You’re not going to get lost.’

‘I don’t have the senses of a homing pigeon, Derek. Let’s not risk it.’

Derek gave him a flat look, already beyond done with this stupid exercise. ‘Are we doing this thing or not?’

Stiles sighed. ‘How much of a lead do you think they have?’

‘I think they’re worse off than they think they are,’ Derek shrugged, getting out of the car and waiting for Stiles to join him, before continuing. ‘Scott and Allison will definitely be off in the bushes, but the other three will be arguing about what to do.’

‘And us?’ Stiles asked, following Derek into the preserve proper, off the beaten path.

‘We won’t have any problems.’

‘Good. Should we like… split up? Start at the top of the list and make our way down?’

‘Splitting up defeats the purpose of teamwork. Just look around, see if anything from the list is within range. Look, tree bark? Something rough.’

‘Oh, nice,’ Stiles took out his phone, pointing it at a tree, then directly at Derek with a soft _click!_ from the camera. ‘We can cross that off.’

‘You just took a photo of me as well,’ Derek said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Stiles smiled and lifted a hand to Derek’s cheek, gracing the tips of his fingers over the stubble there. ‘Something fuzzy.’

 Derek huffed a laugh despite himself. ‘Don’t know if they’ll accept that.’

‘Yeah, well, Erica probably meant a carcass and we’ve already been over my thoughts on _that_.’

‘Phone?’

Stiles passed over it over. ‘What have you got?’

Derek grinned and took a photo of Stiles. ‘Something that makes noise.’

‘Hilarious,’ Stiles said, taking his phone back. ‘See anything useful?’

‘Not really. We should try going somewhere the others haven’t been.’ Derek nodded to Stiles’ left, through a patch of trees. ‘No one’s been over there yet.’

‘Probably some murderers having a nice lurk in the woods, though,’ Stiles muttered. ‘You’re going to get us lost.’

‘I’m not going to get us lost, go find some acorns or something so we can go home.’

‘We’ve only been out here for like ten minutes. What happened to “yay teamwork!” and pack bonding?’

‘When did I ever say any of that?’

‘Not recently, but I’m sure you said it at some point. Erica might have sort of… taken over on that front, though.’

‘Why did I have to pick such annoying betas?’ Derek grumbled, following Stiles as he stomped through leaves, kicking them into the air with joy. ‘Tempted to start a new pack full of – coyotes.’

‘A pack of coyotes?’ Stiles repeated, pausing to turn and give Derek an incredulous look. ‘Why –’

Derek flashed his eyes red, putting an arm protectively in front of Stiles as they stopped on the crest of a small hill. ‘Shut up,’ he muttered. ‘Coyotes.’

‘Actual coyotes?’ Stiles squealed. ‘I thought you said no one was over here!’

‘Coyotes were not included in that statement.’

‘You led us into a _coyote_ den? Jesus, Derek!’

‘Hard to pay attention with you rambling on.’ Derek sniffed the air cautiously, then lowered his arm as he slid down the bank and looked around. ‘Stiles, I’m gonna need that sweater back.’

‘What?’

‘Sweater. Now.’

‘But I’ll get cold!’ Stiles whined, following Derek down the bank and pulling the sweater over his head. ‘Why do you need it? You’re never cold.’

‘I don’t need it,’ Derek said, nodding to a girl lying curled on the ground, half covered by leaves, and looking up to them with wide, fearful eyes. ‘She does.’

Stiles slowly walked to Derek’s side, handing him the sweater. ‘I don’t think that’s on the list,’ he murmured.

Which was how they found Malia.

***

They never got to finish the scavenger hunt, much to Erica’s dismay. She settled for meeting back at Derek’s with what had already been completed, after Malia had been picked up by the Sheriff, happily showing off that her team had completed seven items, to Derek and Stiles’ three, and Scott and Allison’s zero.

‘Since we won, I want a prize,’ Erica announced.

‘What do you want?’ Derek asked, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

‘We’re going to a party tonight.’

‘Go ahead, I’m not stopping you.’

‘We’re _all_ going to a party tonight,’ she clarified. ‘There’s a Halloween costume rave thing happening.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘Absolutely not,’ Derek shook his head. ‘You go, but I’m not.’

‘C’mon, Derek,’ Erica pouted. ‘Loosen up. Maybe you’ll find someone to get that stick out of your butt. Maybe you’ll even find your _soulmate_.’

‘Yeah, Derek,’ Stiles said, a mischievous glint to his eye. ‘Maybe you’ll find your soulmate.’

‘I doubt it,’ Derek replied drily. ‘If my soulmate is expecting to see me at a party, they’ll just have to live with the disappointment.’

Stiles groaned. ‘Dude, just come to the party. One time thing, purely as replacement pack bonding. Nothing like getting drunk to bring people together.’

‘You’re the only one that can get drunk.’

‘Nothing like _watching_ someone get drunk together, then. I volunteer as tribute.’

Derek sighed, looking at the hopeful faces of his betas. ‘Fine. _One_ time, and I’m cutting you off before you get alcohol poisoning. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Now, what’s for lunch?’

***

The party, admittedly, did not go as planned.

Derek was all for blaming it on this damn holiday just around the bend, because it seemed like this was the weekend where everything was gonna go to shit, and – well – bad things happened in threes. Maybe not necessarily bad things, but it definitely seemed like people joined the pack in threes. Stiles, Scott, Allison. Erica, Boyd, Isaac.

Now it looked like Derek was going to be taking Malia under his wing, because the coyote he had been smelling was, in fact, her.

Malia didn’t remember much, but she knew she had been living as a coyote for the past few years after the death of her mother and sister in a car accident, and somehow, she had got stuck in that form. A traumatic incident of some kind (even she didn’t know what) had apparently triggered her shift back into a human body.

So now she was tentatively considered pack, or at least… pack adjacent. Something like that. Derek didn’t really want to push too much onto her, and said they were there for her as friends anyway, no matter her decision.

As Derek hovered at the back of the pack as they lined up to get into the party, he couldn’t help but glance warily at the blank concrete building in front of them. He hoped to whatever gods existed that if two more were going to join his pack in the near future, that they wouldn’t be teenagers as well. He was starting to feel more and more like a babysitter.

‘You know this is a _costume_ party, right?’ Stiles said, sliding up to Derek as they waited for the doors to open.

Derek looked down at what he was wearing – V neck shirt and jeans – then back up to Stiles in his Hamburglar costume. ‘Did you seriously think I was going to come in costume?’

‘Dude, they won’t let you _in_ ,’ Stiles said, nodding to the bouncers at the front who were starting to let people enter, turning those in regular clothes away.

‘Good, I’ll go home, then.’

‘No, Derek, you can’t. You’re supposed to stop me from getting too drunk, remember?’

‘The others can do that,’ Derek said, as they got closer to the doors. He didn’t want to be here anyway, so getting barred would be the least of his problems. ‘They won’t be getting drunk.’

‘The only person who would actually stop me getting alcohol poisoning would be Scott, but he has a human girlfriend, so I think he’ll be watching her, not me.’

‘The others –’

‘Would find it hilarious,’ Stiles interrupted. ‘You have to get in.’

‘Bit late for a costume change, isn’t it?’ Derek asked, refusing to admit that Stiles had a valid point and… maybe he was a little swayed by it.

‘Just…’ Stiles looked around quickly, moving in closer to Derek’s ear. ‘Just wolf out.’

Derek’s eyebrows shot up at the suggestion. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘If they ask, just say it’s SFX!’ Stiles said, as the group in front of them came to the bouncers. ‘Hurry up!’

‘I can’t just –’

‘Wolf out, or so help me God, I will break your fucking arm,’ Stiles hissed.

Derek didn’t doubt him for a second. He sighed heavily, before he ducked his head, dropped his fangs and twisted his head sharply, feeling the quick tug of his facial features changing. He looked up to Stiles, eyes glowing gently and growled. ‘I’m getting you back for this.’

‘Can’t wait,’ Stiles grinned, as they went to face the bouncers.

The two burly men at the door looked them over, seemingly unimpressed by Derek’s lack of commitment to the theme, before they got to his face. He bared his teeth in a smile, waving with a clawed hand, as they nodded for the group to enter.

‘Thank you,’ Stiles murmured, as they passed through sheets of opaque plastic, the heavy bass getting clearer the closer they got to the party proper.

‘Oh, _hell_ yeah!’ Erica yelled, barely audible over the music, even to Derek’s werewolf ears.

Before them, down a set of stairs (which would no doubt be havoc on all the drunken teens later on) the dancefloor was heaving with bodies. Some were grinding against whoever was closest to them, some were just dancing, and some were in the wings doing things they could be arrested for if this place was any more public.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, a wide grin spreading over his face as he tugged them towards it all. He was practically buzzing, and his excitement was tangible, infectious, so Derek let himself be pulled towards the floor. They joined up with the rest of the pack, who were bouncing to the beat, somehow already with drinks in their hands.

‘Dance with me!’ Stiles yelled, leaning up into Derek’s space to make sure he heard.

Derek rolled his eyes, ducking his head to change back to his human features, as well as replying loudly in Stiles’ own ear, ‘I don’t want to dance.’

‘Too bad!’ Stiles said, locking his arms around Derek’s neck, swaying to the music. He was trying to come off as nonchalant, but in his eyes, behind that stupid mask, Derek could see the fear of rejection.

_Oh._ He got what Stiles was doing here. This was a chance for them to be… _intimate_ in a way, without the pack getting suspicious. Or anyone getting suspicious. Dancing was just dancing, but to them, it was a chance to… well. Do something. Touch without fear, maybe. Derek sighed, internally beating himself up for his lack of restraint, before he grabbed Stiles’ hips, bringing them closer and moving in sync.

The pack was distracted, as Stiles said they would be, and no one was paying them any attention. Compared to some couples, what Stiles and Derek were doing was chaste, practically leaving room for Jesus. Derek’s restraint took a further hit when he lowered his head, bringing his nose to Stiles’ neck, brushing the skin with every few movements.

_There’s too many scents in this room_ , Derek told himself. _Only this close to Stiles to narrow the field._

Stiles might have known what he was up to. Maybe he didn’t. Either way, he moved one of his hands slightly up Derek’s neck, raking his fingers through the short hair at the back of his head. Derek thought maybe if the DJ was playing something else – Céline Dion or whatever – then this could maybe be considered romantic.

Then again, they might’ve been grinding a little too much for it to be considered more romantic than exhibitionism.

They stayed like that for a while – this half dance, half making the most of the situation to touch each other – until Stiles moved away a little.

‘I need a drink!’ he said.

Derek cringed slightly at his volume, but nodded and took Stiles’ hand once more to be led to one of the bars in the wings. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was having fun right now. It was all too easy to pretend that he and Stiles could be normal.

‘Two waters!’ Stiles yelled to the bartenders, handing over some cash he whipped out of somewhere, and passing a bottle to Derek as they made their way to one of the rickety tables that had been set up with even sketchier bar stools around them. Stiles unscrewed the cap of his bottle and took a long gulp of water, before turning to Derek and asking, ‘Are you having fun yet?’

Fuck, it was like Stiles could read his mind. ‘No.’

‘Derek,’ Stiles whined. ‘You know you are. _I_ know you are. We both know this –’

Stiles was cut off by a loud screech from somewhere on the other side of the dancefloor, but he just continued right on with his sentence, like he hadn’t even heard it.

Derek held up a hand and frowned. ‘Did you hear that? It was like someone –’

_‘Jackson!’_

‘Didn’t hear anything, dude,’ Stiles said. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Who’s Jackson?’

‘Whittemore? Asshole. Why?’

‘Is he here?’

‘Probably, why do you care?’

Derek gave him a look, telling him not to be an idiot, before downing his entire bottle of water, and setting off to the other side of the building, Stiles calling after him. Derek ignored his protests, continuing to power through the crowd to reach the find the source of the screaming.

Right in one of the corners, away from any and all light, someone was folded in on themselves, chest heaving and shuddering. Someone else looked to be trying to comfort them, but Derek had no idea who either of them were. As he got closer, he made them out a little clearer in his vision – a young man, and a young woman with her arm half extended towards him.

‘What’s going on?’ Derek asked, approaching them cautiously.

‘He’s – I don’t know, he’s not –’ the girl stammered, her eyes flicking behind Derek.

‘Lydia?’ Stiles said, coming to stand beside Derek. ‘What’s up?’

‘Jackson. He’s not…’

Derek tilted his head, catching a scent as he and Stiles got closer. ‘He’s shifting.’

Lydia’s eyes turned fearful. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about! He’s fine, he’s just –’

Stiles huffed as he and Derek came to a stop in front of Lydia, leaving a small berth around Jackson, who was still clutching his sides and taking harsh breaths. ‘He’s… what is he?’

Jackson’s head turned sharply, eyes glowing blue. ‘Get her away,’ he growled.

‘Oh, shit,’ Derek muttered. ‘Stiles?’

‘Right,’ Stiles pulled on Lydia’s arm, moving her out of range from where Jackson was apparently losing control right about now.

‘Stiles!’ she protested. ‘Let me help him! You don’t know what you’re dealing with!’

‘You would be wrong with that assumption,’ Stiles said, nodding to Derek whose eyes were now glowing red.

‘Control yourself,’ Derek said lowly, focusing his voice on Jackson, and sending a wave of authority through it. ‘Get a hold on yourself. Find your anchor.’

‘What the _fuck_ are you on about,’ Jackson hissed, shuddering as his face shifted. ‘Who even _are_ you?’

Derek snarled, his fangs dropped. ‘I’m the alpha.’

Jackson laughed once, before he cried out in pain, twisting his head sharply as he tried to hold himself back. ‘The _alpha_?’

Great, so, that hadn’t worked. Who did this little shit think he was? ‘Can you keep it together long enough to get outside?’ Derek asked, deciding to switch tactics. If Jackson lost control, it was better for him to be away from these people, so maybe they could keep the collateral damage to a minimum.

Jackson shook his head, or maybe it was just his entire body trembling again. Either way, it wasn’t promising, but Derek was the one preaching anonymity and secrecy to the pack, so he had to try.

‘We need to get him out.’

‘And how are we going to do that?’ Stiles asked. ‘He’s sprouting fur, his eyes are _blue_ , for God’s sake.’

‘I see that. Give me your cape.’

Stiles frowned, but untied it from around his neck and handed it over without comment. Derek swooped it over Jackson’s shoulders and head, gripping him tightly as he pushed them through the crowd around the bar, eyes searching for the nearest exit.

‘We need to go back out the same way we got in,’ Stiles called over the music.

Derek nodded. ‘Give me a hand.’

Stiles reluctantly grabbed onto Jackson’s other side, helping to manoeuvre him up the stairs, through the plastic in the entryway, and out into the fresh night air, ignoring the amused looks from the bouncers. They probably just thought they were being good friends, helping their wasted buddy from the party.

From there, they moved quickly around to the side of the building, away from any onlookers, before they stopped and Stiles pulled the cape off Jackson.

‘What’s wrong with him? Is he okay?’ Lydia asked, reaching out towards her boyfriend.

Stiles pushed her arm down and away, because Jackson looked like he was about to bite it off. ‘He’s not okay, no.’

‘How long has he been like this?’ Derek asked, angling himself between Stiles and Jackson, just in case the latter decided to lunge.

‘A few minutes, I guess, he was –’

‘How long has he been _turned_?’

Lydia frowned. ‘Maybe three months?’

‘It wasn’t you, was it?’ Stiles asked. ‘Who bit him?’

‘You think I did this?’ Derek shook his head. ‘Might have been the same alpha who bit Scott when –’

‘Scott McCall?’ Lydia interrupted. ‘He’s a werewolf?’

‘No offence, but that is literally the least of your concerns right now, Lydia,’ Stiles said. ‘Derek, do something!’

‘I can’t, not without risking –’

‘Use your alpha voice!’

‘I _did_!’

‘Then like… do the thing!’

‘What thing?’

‘The _rawr_ thing!’ Stiles said, making claw gestures with his hands. ‘That thing!’

‘You want me to roar at him?!’ Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I’ll just alert every fucking person in Beacon Hills to the fact that I’m here.’

‘Would you prefer he go off and kill someone else?’

‘Kill someone?’ Lydia repeated. ‘Jackson’s never –’

‘His eyes are blue, Lydia!’ Stiles said, not having any time for this shit right now. ‘That means he’s killed someone!’

‘Bullshit. That’s just the natural colour of –’

‘Lydia, we do not have time to discuss the specifics of werewolfhood with you right now. Derek, roar at this dude before he _rips out my throat_.’

‘Stiles –’

‘Derek, he’s – _Jackson!_ ’ Stiles yelled, his voice deep and commanding.

At the moment Jackson moved, and Derek was about to decide _fuck it_ and unleash a roar that hopefully would’ve shocked Jackson into compliance, Stiles forced himself between them, facing Jackson head on. As it was, the glow was fading from Jackson’s eyes, and his features were returning to normal.

Because of Stiles.

‘We need to go before someone gets here,’ Derek said, ignoring that fun fact for the moment, and jerking his head to the road nearby.

‘Chain link fence!’ Stiles pointed out. What he’d done hadn’t escaped his notice, and he sounded freaked, even though he was obviously trying to hold it together.

Derek nodded, then flicked out the claws of one hand, slashing it through the fence and ushering the three teens with him through. ‘Run!’

***

‘We were dealing with it,’ Lydia sniffed, now that she and Jackson were safely inside Derek’s apartment.

‘Not very well it seems,’ Derek said drily. ‘What were you doing on full moons? Releasing him into the preserve and hoping for the best?’

Lydia’s cheeks darkened as she exchanged a glance with a sulking Jackson. ‘It seemed like the safest option. No one goes out there at night.’

‘Clearly, someone did.’ Stiles pointed at Jackson, gesturing towards his face. ‘Or his eyes would be yellow.’

‘Yellow?’ Lydia frowned. ‘I never saw them yellow, only blue. I thought it was just his eye colour heightened.’

Derek shook his head, flashing his eyes red. ‘Blue means you’ve taken an innocent life.’

‘What’s red?’

‘Alpha.’

‘Like you have a pack?’

‘Exactly,’ Derek nodded turning his attention to Jackson, who was noticeably quiet on Derek’s couch. Maybe coming to terms with the fact that he’d killed someone. ‘I can help you, and teach you control. How to get through full moons.’

‘I don’t need your help.’

‘Of course not, that explains why I just had to smuggle you out of a rave because your senses got the better of you.’

‘I had it handled.’

‘I can help you handle it _better_.’

‘Do I need to join your pack for that?’

Derek sighed, the word _babysitter_ running through his mind again. ‘If you want my help, yes.’

‘Dammit,’ Jackson muttered.

By the time they left, a promise to be back later in the day for a crash course on werewolves, it was nearing three in the morning. And Derek’s fears of two more joining his pack had been confirmed.

Stiles was completely wiped out, half flopped over the side of Derek’s couch, one leg almost entirely on the floor. ‘I hate Jackson,’ he mumbled, adjusting his head slightly. ‘Total douche.’

‘Too bad,’ Derek said. ‘He’s pack now.’

‘Not gonna love him like a son. He can get fucked.’

‘Still convinced you’re the pack mother?’

‘Mhmm.’

‘Okay. Well, I’m going to bed. Are you staying over?’

‘Mm, mhmm.’

Derek hummed. ‘Wanna sleep down here or upstairs? Pack’s not here.’

‘Mmkay,’ Stiles sighed, lifting an arm. ‘Help.’

Derek smiled softly, scooping Stiles up bridal style, and heading upstairs. He deposited him on the bed, before heading to his wardrobe for some clothes for Stiles to sleep in. Derek tossed them to him, before he quickly went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Stiles was definitely taking his time undressing, dropping his costume on the floor haphazardly. It seemed he was too tired to bother with anything more, because once he struggled his way into the shirt and sweatpants, he slipped right into Derek’s bed, snuggling up into Derek’s side and letting out a deep sigh.

‘How did I do that?’ he asked quietly, tilting his head to look up to Derek.

‘Do what?’

‘Forcibly make Jackson shift back.’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Is it…’ Stiles paused, clenching his fingers briefly in Derek’s shirt. ‘Is it because I’m linked to you, or something?’

‘I really don’t know, Stiles,’ Derek said gently. ‘Don’t worry about it. You did what I should’ve been able to, and the important thing is that no one got hurt.’

‘I guess.’

‘If it makes you feel better, we can go talk to Deaton tomorrow,’ Derek suggested. ‘He knows about this sort of thing.’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles nodded. ‘We should do that.’

‘But now, we should sleep.’

‘Yeah, I can get behind that.’


	5. A Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac shook his head and poked a piece of pineapple that had ended up on his pizza somehow. ‘Derek doesn’t have friends.’  
> ‘I have Stiles,’ Derek said, squeezing Stiles’ hand. ‘And if anyone says another thing about it, I’m gonna kick your ass.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like 2:40am and im tired af so this is _very_ roughly edited, so apologies in advance, i guess?

It was early afternoon by the time Lydia and Jackson left Derek’s. Stiles had kept uncharacteristically quiet as he sat curled in on himself on a beanbag, apparently still a little unsettled by what had happened earlier (much earlier) that day. At one point, he left the room and went to the kitchen under the guise of making himself some lunch, but Derek heard him speaking quietly on the phone to Scott, filling him in on the situation.

He didn’t say much on the way to the animal clinic, either, which was fine with Derek, but still a little disconcerting, because Stiles was usually allergic to prolonged periods of silence. As they pulled up outside the clinic, Stiles just got out of the Camaro and waited impatiently for Derek to join him, giving the distinct impression that he wanted to get this over and done with. (Which, really, Derek couldn’t blame him for.)

‘Mr Stilinski,’ Deaton greeted as they entered. ‘Ah, and Mr Hale. What can I do for you gentlemen?’

‘We need to talk,’ Derek said, hoping Deaton got his drift.

Deaton nodded. ‘Flip the sign and come on back.’

Stiles waited for Derek to lock the door as well, before he pushed open the barrier for them and went on to join Deaton around the stainless-steel operating table. ‘I have a question.’

‘I figured. How can I help?’

Stiles stuffed his hands in the pocket of his borrowed hoodie and looked to Derek for guidance. When Derek just shrugged, Stiles sighed deeply and launched into his story about Jackson and how _he_ forced him to shift back, not Derek, not Derek’s alpha voice. ‘So, my question, I guess, is why that happened.’

Deaton hummed thoughtfully. ‘Has anything like this ever happened to you before?’

‘Nope.’

‘Do you have any other theories?’

Stiles looked to Derek again, and waited for Derek to nod in resignation, knowing exactly what Stiles was asking. ‘I thought it might be because Derek and I have a… connection.’

Deaton raised an eyebrow. ‘What kind of connection?’

‘A, uh…’ Stiles trailed off.

‘We’re soulmates,’ Derek filled in quietly. ‘The only other person who knows is Scott, and we’d like to keep it that way.’

‘Who do you think I’m going to tell?’ Deaton asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. ‘That could have something to do with it, or perhaps nothing it all, though it is possible that Stiles is gaining an air of authority because you’re an alpha.’

‘So it might be that I have my own alpha voice?’ Stiles said. ‘That’s kinda cool.’

‘Yes, but it’s also possible that it’s something else.’

‘What are you thinking?’

Deaton went over to a set of drawers and pulled out a jar of black dust, setting it on the table between them. ‘This is mountain ash.’

‘O-kay? How does that help me?’

Deaton smiled. ‘Hold out your hand.’

‘Is this safe?’ Stiles asked suspiciously, doing as Deaton asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ Deaton replied, sprinkling a pile the size of a fingernail onto Stiles’ palm, then gesturing for Derek to stand in the middle of the open space. ‘What I want you to do is create a circle around Derek with this.’

‘How? This isn’t enough to make a circle around an ant.’

‘Mountain ash is about belief and intent. Believe you have enough to make a circle.’

‘But I don’t.’

‘Make yourself believe otherwise.’

Stiles huffed, standing next to Derek, his hand clenched into a fist around the tiny bit of dust. ‘What’s the point of this?’

‘A harmless test.’

Stiles rolled his eyes, before he shut them and took a couple of deep breaths. He held out his hand and slowly walked around Derek, letting bit by bit trickle out, until he’d made it back to where he started. ‘Did I pass?’

‘Stiles, look down,’ Derek said, nodding to his feet. Around them was a thick, black circle of mountain ash.

Stiles frowned and crouched down for a closer look. ‘I did this?’

‘You did.’

Derek extended his hand, meeting the invisible barrier and sending waves of energy out from that point. ‘Can someone break it now?’

Stiles shrugged. ‘Maybe. Kinda like having you in a little prison where you won’t annoy me.’

‘Cute.’

Stiles grinned and turned back to Deaton. ‘So, what, am I magic?’

Deaton studied him for a moment, before he headed back to the drawers and pulled out something else. He set the candle down in front of Stiles on the table and nodded to it. ‘Light it.’

‘How will that help?’

‘Light it with your mind.’

‘Oh my God,’ Stiles groaned. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Does it sound like a joke?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘Stiles, just do it,’ Derek said, still inside his mountain ash circle, arms now crossed over his chest. ‘Concentrate.’

Stiles shook his head in disbelief. ‘Sure, I’ll just look at this candle, think about setting it on fire, and bam!’ He pointed at the candle. ‘Fire!’

‘Exactly,’ Deaton nodded. ‘Good job.’

‘Wait, what?’ Stiles spun around to the table again, surprised to see the candle now with a small flame atop it. ‘Did he do that?’ he asked Derek.

‘Nope,’ Derek rubbed his temples. ‘What does this mean? And _someone_ break this damn circle.’

Stiles grinned, finally coming over to set him free. ‘Did I set it on fire with my mind?’

‘Yes,’ Deaton replied. ‘These were just very simple tests. Anyone can use mountain ash, but it’s considerably easier to use it on that scale if there’s magic in your veins. The candle… well. I think you can figure out what that means.’

‘So… I-I’m a _what_?’ Stiles asked breathily.

‘Yer a wizard, Stiles,’ Derek muttered.

‘The term is _spark_ ,’ Deaton corrected. ‘It explains why you could force Jackson to shift, better than the connection you and Derek share. Werewolves are very receptive to magic, whether either party knows it’s being used. You could become a very powerful and dangerous part of your pack, if you choose to pursue this, Stiles. You could even become the emissary to Derek’s pack, which would be a very safe cover for the two of you being so close, if you wish your pack to remain uninformed about your connection. Furthermore, it would be extra protection from hostile packs, because emissaries are greatly respected, even in war.’

‘Would it be easier for us to hide our connection?’ Stiles asked. ‘Or, I guess, is there a way that I could use magic to keep it hidden, even when it’s been, uh…’

‘Solidified?’

‘Yeah.’

‘There are ways, yes.’

‘Would it interfere with his schoolwork?’ Derek said, ignoring the indignant scoff from Stiles beside him.

‘I can teach him as much or as little as he can handle besides school, of course.’

Stiles pursed his lips, thinking over this proposition. ‘You said I could be powerful and dangerous.’

‘Yes.’

‘So that means I would be able to help the pack more, right? When it comes to fighting? I’d be more of an advantage than someone holding them back?’

‘Generally, yes.’

‘Then I’ll do it.’

‘Stiles,’ Derek began. ‘You can’t just jump into something like this without –’

‘No,’ Stiles interrupted. ‘I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t need to think about it. It would make me more of an asset, and in the long run, this would be good for us. _Us._ You won’t have to worry about me as much.’

Derek sighed deeply. ‘Well, you don’t need my permission.’

‘Nope,’ Stiles grinned, turning to Deaton. ‘When do we start?’

***

Derek hated Halloween. He used to think it was fun, trick or treating with his sisters when he was younger, even going to a couple of themed parties in his early teens. But now he was older and wiser, and he could feel the pull in the air that came with the veil between worlds being thinnest. Bad, bad things were trying to break through, and Derek would inevitably have to deal with them now he was the alpha.

It wasn’t just the unseen forces at work here, however. His pack was acting a little crazier than usual, none of them having experienced a Halloween as a wolf yet, none having dealt with creepers in the preserve trying to summon Satan or whatever, which had been a particularly memorable event when Derek was only about fourteen. He and Laura had been sent out by their mother to scare people off from around the old Hale property, and had stumbled across a group of kids around Laura’s age, all gathered in a circle and doing some sort of blood sacrifice. Talia had been fetched immediately, and those teenagers had quickly vanished after a wolf with glowing, red eyes had appeared.

So that was the kind of shit Derek was gonna have to deal with now. Blood sacrifices, malicious spirits, and general weirdness caused by the holiday that always had people acting strange. The usual.

To top things off, it was a full moon as well, which brought about a whole other range of problems. At least the betas (save Jackson) had enough control to not need to be chained up anymore, so Derek was making use of the abundance of restless energy, and was sending them out to patrol the woods nearest to Beacon Hills.

The pack was gathered at his apartment for pizza before heading out, all excitedly discussing theories of what they would encounter. Stiles was throwing around wild ideas about ghouls and vampires, maybe even the stray zombie or two, and refused to listen to anyone telling him how unlikely that was. Which, y’know, coming from a pack of werewolves, seemed a little ironic.

Derek was trying to get Stiles’ attention to whisk him away for a quick conversation about how things were going with Deaton, but it wasn’t going well. It had been almost two weeks since they’d first discovered Stiles was magic (or a _spark_ , whatever) and they hadn’t really talked since. Stiles had taken an armful of books with him when they left the animal clinic, and had so far been studying them at his own house.

Now, with the pack alternating between entertaining Stiles’ zombie fantasies and feeding him pizza, it seemed like Derek was just not going to talk to Stiles before going out. Or, maybe, ever again. The pack was happy, and Derek decided their conversation could just wait. Maybe he’d just send Stiles a text or something.

‘Hey, Derek!’ Stiles said, shushing the others. ‘When did you say we should be going?’

‘Probably around now. And call me first if you find something, especially something you want to fight. We don’t need anyone getting killed,’ Derek said, narrowing his eyes at the way Erica was bouncing excitedly.

‘What if we find a troll in the dungeon?’ Stiles asked seriously. ‘Should we leave it?’

‘I’m not even going to go there. I’m heading to the old house, and we’ll meet back here between midnight and one. If you find anything, call me, and if any of you feel like you’re in danger of turning, have someone in your group _call me_. I don’t want anything going wrong tonight. Clear?’

There were murmurs of acknowledgement as everyone started gathering their coats and readying to leave.

Derek was tidying up pizza boxes, knowing he wouldn’t feel like it when he got home and unwilling to leave them there overnight, when he heard someone else enter the dining room. ‘Stiles,’ he said in surprise.

‘Sorry I haven’t been around much,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t want to have someone in the firing line while I was practising anything.’

Derek nodded. ‘It’s okay. Pack gone?’

‘Yeah, everyone’s left. Scott and Allison went down to double check her arrows, I think. Hopefully that wasn’t a metaphor,’ he said, scrunching his nose at the thought of his jeep being defiled in such a manner. ‘Just wanted you to know I’m not avoiding you.’

‘I know you weren’t. Be careful tonight.’

‘Me? _You_ be careful. You get hurt, I get hurt, remember? I’ll be fine with Scott and Allison. Mostly Allison. Scott’s still not very coordinated.’

Derek huffed a laugh as he headed to the kitchen with the pizza boxes, sliding the leftovers into his fridge. ‘I’ll be careful, too.’

‘Good. I’ll see you later and tell you about the zombie I kicked in the head.’

‘I don’t like how that’s what you think is going to happen tonight.’

‘You don’t like anything.’

‘I especially don’t like _that_.’

‘Do you like _me_?’

Derek closed the fridge and turned around with a sigh. He so did not want to go there right now. ‘Stiles, I –’

‘I know,’ Stiles waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.’

‘It’s okay,’ Derek muttered. ‘I know how frustrating this is for you.’

Stiles looked like he wanted to say something to that, his mouth opening and closing a few times, before he shook his head at himself. ‘I’m just gonna go. Be careful by yourself.’

Derek nodded mutely and watched him leave. He waited for the sound of the door shutting, before he tipped his head back and tried to pretend he wasn’t talking to his ceiling again. ‘Mom, if you’re up there, I could really use a sign for what I’m supposed to do here, because I don’t want to leave him hanging like this. It’s not fair on either of us, and… yeah. Please, help me out.’

There was no response, no sign, no nothing, so Derek just cleared his throat and left.

***

**DEREK:** _anything yet?_

**ERICA:** _nothing on this end_

**STILES:** _zilch_

**DEREK:** _good keep me in the loop_

**ERICA:** _well we found a bunch of kids screwing around w some trees but i think they’d been smoking weed so we kinda wolfed out and they ran away?_

**DEREK:** _what do you mean “screwing with trees”?_

**DEREK:** _also what did i say about a low profile??_

**ERICA:** _like carving pentagrams and claw marks into them idk_

**STILES:** _damn i want pentagrams!!_

**STILES:** _we found some bunnies tho :)))_

**ERICA:** _i love bunnies!_

**STILES:** _they were really cute remind me to show u the pics later!!_

**DEREK:** _yes, LATER. back to work_

**STILES:** _party pooper :(_

Derek rolled his eyes as he made his way up the path that wound up to the Hale house. He had absolutely no idea what to do with it now. He knew he couldn’t leave it here, this burnt echo of what it used to be, but he also didn’t want to raze it to the ground and rebuild. He didn’t think he could bring himself to do that quite yet. It didn’t feel like the right time, and he had absolute faith that Talia would let him know when it was.

And no, he was most certainly not going to say that to the pack when they asked next, because he knew exactly how crazy that sounded.

As he trudged up the steps, he caught the scent of people in his house. He could even hear their voices in the upper levels, and make out the words _“séance”_ and _“contact the victims”_ which definitely didn’t sound promising. What made him feel slightly better was that at least one member of their group was taking some convincing.

Employing a bit of wolf speed, he snuck up the stairs and found them in one of the bedrooms – his _parents’_ room, to be exact, and that riled something up in his blood, that they would dare to defile the memory of his parents and this house with their rituals. The last thing he needed was them to rouse the spirits of angry werewolves, or antagonise whatever else lay in these woods.

‘Guys, I don’t want to do this,’ a girl’s voice, high with anxiety. ‘It’s a really bad idea, and I don’t think we should do this.’

‘Oh, don’t be _stupid_ , Sarah,’ another girl replied. ‘No one comes to this house, no one’s going to find us.’

‘Uh, the _ghosts_ will, Amber!’

‘I heard that it was the survivor who lit the house up,’ a male voice said conspiratorially. ‘That teenager? He murdered his _entire_ family and they never caught him.’

Derek rolled his eyes, sticking to the shadows as he crept further up the hallway to the bedroom. He knew these were the rumours that had been spread about him, and even though it was years ago, whenever he heard things like that, it reopened the wounds just to rub salt in them.

‘I heard,’ a second male chimed in. ‘I heard that they found him hanging by his toes from one of the trees outside, guts spilling out of his chest. Vigilante justice, am I right?’

Oh, so now the rumour was that Derek was dead?

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the second girl – Amber? – said. ‘They found him impaled on the bannister at the bottom of the stairs.’

Yeah, not an improvement.

‘In any case, we’re doing this. Light another candle, Jen,’ Amber continued.

‘We only brought those two,’ a third girl said. ‘They’re both… lit.’

‘Whatever,’ Amber said. ‘Grab hands –’

‘I wouldn’t, if I were you,’ Derek interrupted, deciding he’d had enough of this.

‘Who said that?’ Amber asked.

Derek chuckled from where he stayed in the shadows outside the door. ‘You’re in my house.’

‘Oh my god,’ the first girl, Sarah, groaned. ‘There are fucking ghosts.’

Derek laughed, stepping into the doorway, where a little of the light touched him. ‘Not as such.’

‘Are you, like, alive?’ Jen said, eyeing up the parts of him she could see.

Deciding to have a little fun with them, now Derek was sure they meant no serious harm, he let his alpha eyes shine through gently. ‘I’ll let you decide.’

‘He’s fucking _possessed_ , what the fuck!’ one of the guys said, scrambling backwards as Derek stepped into the room, dragging a claw along the wall. ‘What’s that thing from _Supernatural_? Sarah, you’re a nerd, exorcise his ass!’

‘Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus–’ Sarah stammered.

Derek cut her off with a roar, showing off his fangs. ‘Get the fuck out of my house.’

The teens jumped to their feet, running from the room with a series of coordinated screams, and leaving behind all their stuff.

Derek shook his head and blew out the candles, before he picked up the phone left on the floor and stuck it in his pocket. He’d get Stiles to hack it or something so they could send it back. Hell, maybe he’d even charge it first. He wasn’t a total monster.

 

**DEREK:** _just scared the shit out of a bunch of kids doing a séance at the house lol_

**ERICA:** _gdi next year i want old hale house duty :(_

**DEREK:** _no. my house, i get to scare the teenagers_

**ERICA:** _not fair?? u scare us on like a daily basis_

**DEREK:** _do i?_

**ERICA:** _no but didn’t u get a kick out of that for a second there?_

**ERICA:** _what does stiles have to say about this he’s been v quiet?_

**ALLISON:** _we’re on our way to the loft_

**DEREK:** _it’s not midnight yet_

**ALLISON:** _we’re on our way to the loft and u should probs meet us there_

**ALLISON:** _scott told me to tell u not to argue_

**DEREK:** _who does he think he is to boss me around_

**ALLISON:** _he says he’s the guy carrying stiles_

Derek’s heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. ‘ _Fuck!_ ’

***

Realistically, Derek knew Stiles had probably just twisted his ankle and demanded Scott carry him back to the apartment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, deeply wrong. Now that Allison had hinted Stiles was hurt, Derek noticed he’d been feeling a bit… weird. Maybe it was what made him act out and scare those teenagers in the way he did, but it didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that he was at the loft to meet the pack.

Allison informed Derek in a separate texting thread to their group chat (unused, except for a few texts they’d exchanged a couple of weeks ago about werewolf alcohol limits) that they had also called Deaton and told him to be at Derek’s apartment as well.

Apparently it was deemed okay to worry Derek sick, but not the rest of the pack. Maybe Scott had told her about his connection to Stiles. Maybe he’d just played the _alpha_ card and said something about how he’d need to know a pack member was hurt seriously enough to involve their… Deaton. Magic doctor? Whatever. He was a vet, and Derek was not about to remind himself that his soulmate’s life was hanging in the hands of an _animal_ doctor.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Deaton was just more equipped to splint dislocated fingers or something, without having to involve Scott’s mom.

Either way, Derek had psyched himself up to the point that he was almost relieved when he arrived outside his apartment and could smell blood, because now he knew what he should be worrying about.

He had undoubtedly been the furthest away from the apartment, because the entire pack – and Deaton – were already inside, crowded around where Stiles was lying on a sheet on the research table, the lights on overheard, and a couple extra being held overhead for additional lighting.

Derek’s heart sank deeper, as he shed his jacket and dropped it on his way to the table. ‘Get away,’ he said, pushing through the small crowd around his Stiles, his soulmate. ‘What the fuck happened?’

‘We had more fun than you,’ Stiles said, his voice small. ‘Jealous?’

‘Not really,’ Derek said, taking in the picture of Stiles, pale and blood smeared across his skin.

‘I need at least three of you to leave right now,’ Deaton said calmly, looking meaningfully up at Derek. ‘He needs room, and so do I.’

Derek nodded to Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, who were hovering around Stiles’ head being useless. ‘Go. Sit on the couch or eat pizza.’

‘But we –’ Erica began.

‘Go.’

The three of them nodded glumly, sparing a glance back at Stiles as they headed towards the kitchen for pizza.

Deaton picked up a pair of scissors, going to cut off Stiles’ shirt, when he paused. ‘Allison,’ he murmured. ‘You might notice something about Stiles, but you need to keep it to yourself.’

Allison frowned and tried not to jostle the desk light she was holding steady against the table as she shifted her weight. ‘Okay?’

‘Please don’t cut my shirt,’ Stiles whined.

‘I’m sorry, it needs to go,’ Deaton said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

‘You can have one of mine,’ Derek said quietly. ‘If it makes you feel better.’

Stiles nodded, seemingly appeased. ‘Okay.’

While Deaton cut his shirt off, peeling it off Stiles’ skin and folding it to the sides, Derek noticed Stiles clench his eyes shut as he tried not to wince.

‘What happened?’ Derek asked again, rolling up his sleeves and taking Stiles’ hand, drawing out his pain. Derek watched Stiles’ face for a visible sign of relief as his veins became black against his skin, breathing levelly in and out to ignore the dull ache it produced in his own body.

‘We’re not totally sure what it was,’ Scott said honestly. ‘Might’ve been another wolf or something, but whatever it was, it just appeared out of nowhere, then next we knew, Stiles was on the ground bleeding.’

Allison gasped quietly as Deaton began cleaning the blood of Stiles’ skin, revealing the shallow gashes in his skin, four long ribbons of red against pale, freckled white. Or maybe that wasn’t what caught her eye, because she said, ‘Is that..?’

Derek looked to where her gaze was locked – the soulmark. She, like the rest of the pack, had seen Derek shirtless (or sleeveless) enough times to recognise it. ‘Yeah,’ he murmured. ‘That would be… that.’

‘Remember to keep it to yourself,’ Deaton said. ‘I can stitch these closed, and you’ll heal in time, but it won’t be comfortable for a while.’

‘As long as I don’t die,’ Stiles sighed.

And that was when it hit him.

Derek was standing here, looking at his soulmate’s chest ripped to shreds, closer to death than he’d ever been – and Derek was just _there_ like a fucking bystander to it all. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. This wasn’t how soulmates acted. Soulmates were supposed to be there, thick and thin, sickness and health, and Derek wasn’t doing any of that. He was trying to pretend that they weren’t cosmically destined for each other because Stiles was just a little bit too young.

It didn’t mean he and Stiles had to fuck immediately, it didn’t mean they had to do _anything_ , but it meant Derek was going to try. Sex wasn’t everything in a relationship, and he knew as much as Stiles wanted it (clearly) he was okay to wait. He was willing to pretend they weren’t soulmates until he was eighteen and they could magically _be_ , so maybe they could just… be anyway.

Fuck, Derek wished his mother was more subtle with her directions, instead of half-killing Stiles to send a message.

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

‘Not your fault,’ Stiles said. ‘Don’t blame you.’

‘I know you don’t, but –’

‘What’s going on here?’ Erica asked loudly, as she and her two usual cohorts arrived back with plates of pizza. ‘Did Derek catch a feeling?’

Derek’s head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at her, but he couldn’t find the strength to snap at her. ‘He’s pack. I’m doing what I’d do for any of you.’

Deaton casually shifted his pile of clean gauze to cover Stiles’ mark and started to suture the wounds closed. ‘How are you feeling, Stiles?’

‘Never better,’ Stiles said, turning to face Derek. ‘You won’t let me die, right?’

It was humour, but Derek could hear the underlying tone of genuine worry. ‘Of course not.’

‘So are you guys, like, friends now?’ Isaac asked.

‘I’m taking full responsibility for that,’ Erica said. ‘I paired you together for the scavenger hunt, this is totally all me.’

‘Whatever helps you sleep at night,’ Stiles said. ‘Maybe we _are_ friends.’

Isaac shook his head and poked a piece of pineapple that had ended up on his pizza somehow. ‘Derek doesn’t have friends.’

‘I have Stiles,’ Derek said, squeezing Stiles’ hand. ‘And if anyone says another thing about it, I’m gonna kick your ass.’

‘On that note,’ Stiles said thoughtfully. ‘We should find out what did this to me so I can thank them.’

‘Not right now. When you’re better, we’ll deal with it.’

‘What if I _die_ though? What if –’

‘You’re not going to die, I’m going to make sure of it. We’ll find what did this, I promise.’

‘A promise,’ Erica whispered. ‘He’s pulling out the big guns.’

‘Does it annoy you that he likes me more than you?’ Stiles asked, tilting his head to the side to grin at her.

A flush crept up her cheeks, as she turned back to her pizza with a sniff. ‘No. But, like –’

Derek cut her off with a loud sigh. ‘Okay, if you’re not going to be useful, could you please just –’

‘Go away?’ Stiles finished.

‘We’re not doing anything, though,’ Isaac whined.

‘That’s exactly my point. It’s a little crowded in here right now, and you three sitting over there judging everything is not helping, so go home. We’ll call you in the morning.’

‘But –’

‘ _Go. Home._ ’

‘Can we at least take the pizza?’

‘Yes, you can take your pizza.’

Isaac pouted, but got up with the other two. ‘Okay. You’ll call us?’

‘We’ll call.’

He nodded and turned to Erica and Boyd. ‘One of you is letting me stay at your house.’

‘You pretty much live with me anyway,’ Erica said, smiling and patting him on the shoulder. ‘Sorry for… being weird. Useless. We’re just worried.’

‘It’s okay,’ Derek nodded. ‘I know the feeling.’

After the other three left, the room was silent. Deaton made small comments regarding how he was doing with sewing Stiles back together, and Allison started idly humming, but that was about it.

The clock was nearly hitting one thirty by the time Deaton deemed his work complete and Stiles okay enough to leave alone. He gave him a rundown on how to care for his sutures, as well as instruction to swing past the animal clinic in the next couple of days for a check up, then he packed up his kit and headed for the door.

Derek gently let go of Stiles’ hand and followed him, catching him right on the steps to leave. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘For this.’

‘It’s okay,’ Deaton smiled. ‘Just make sure he doesn’t undo all my work.’

‘I will. Do you have any ideas about what did that to him?’

‘If I were you, I’d start with looking for any packs close by.’

‘You think a werewolf did that?’

‘It’s possible. That was Scott’s first suggestion, and it matches the marks, doesn’t it?’

‘I suppose,’ Derek muttered. ‘Well, I won’t keep you. Take care getting home.’

Deaton laughed and stepped out of the apartment. ‘Maybe Erica was right. This _has_ mellowed you out.’

‘I’m sure it’s only temporary,’ Derek called after him, before he headed back to where Stiles was now talking to Scott and Allison. ‘You should all probably stay here tonight. It’s getting late.’

‘We’ll take one of the guest rooms,’ Scott nodded. ‘Uh, do you need some help? Getting Stiles upstairs?’

‘He’s got it,’ Stiles said. ‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I got it,’ Derek agreed. ‘Where do you want to sleep?’

‘What are my options?’

‘You know your options.’

‘Then you know my answer.’

‘Okay,’ Derek said, sliding one arm under Stiles’ legs, and the other around his back, before he lifted Stiles gently off the table, walking as slowly as he could as to not move Stiles too much. ‘You guys can go to bed, I’ll come back down and clean everything up.’

‘It’s fine,’ Allison smiled. ‘We’ll deal with this. You take care of him.’

‘Thanks,’ Derek said, returning her smile as he began to tackle the stairs. He successfully navigated them and the hallway in the dark, but had to do some awkward moves to get the door to his bedroom open. He ignored his bed in favour of going to the bathroom, where he flicked the light on and helped Stiles sit on the closed toilet lid. ‘Take off your clothes. You’re not getting into my bed caked in dirt.’

‘I’m hardly caked in dirt,’ Stiles muttered. ‘Give me a hand, here.’

Derek huffed, but helped Stiles out of his clothes, leaving him in pineapple printed boxers. ‘Deaton was cleaning you for visual purposes, not for you to be clean.’

‘Since when do you care about how clean I am?’

‘Since I changed my sheets this morning,’ Derek said, getting a washcloth and crouching as he began gently washing off flecks of blood and dirt. ‘I’m sorry I got you into this.’

‘Into what?’

‘My… world, I guess. That I am what I am and you’re in more danger for it.’

Stiles caught Derek’s hand as he dabbed at a spot of dried blood on the edge of the dressing covering his wounds, and therefore most of his chest. ‘You don’t need to apologise. It’s not like either of us asked for this.’

‘I know, but now I think…’ Derek paused and looked up to Stiles, so soft and kind and young in this moment. ‘I feel like we’re wasting this. The universe brought us together and we’re throwing it back in disregard.’

‘Are you saying what I think you are? That it took me getting seriously injured for you to decide you want to _date_ me?’ Stiles shook his head in disbelief as a small smile formed on his face. ‘If I’d know that was all I needed, I would’ve been gouged a lot earlier.’

‘Don’t say that, Jesus, Stiles.’

‘Am I wrong, though?’

‘I didn’t… Look. We’re still not _doing_ anything until you’re eighteen, but…’

‘Sex isn’t everything?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Are you saying we can canoodle?’

‘I’m saying we can work up to it, that we don’t have to pretend we aren’t _this_ anymore.’

Stiles ducked his head as his smile grew. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ Derek confirmed. ‘That’s okay?’

‘Yeah, that’s okay.’


	6. Training Wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Stiles said sarcastically. ‘I’ve got like a billion stitches in my fragile human skin because I got shredded by an out of control werewolf like _you_ , but you’re right, it’s not that bad. I’m wearing a bandage across my entire fucking chest for fun. I’m sorry.’  
> ‘I’m not _out of control_ ,’ Jackson said. ‘I have it _under_ control.’  
>  ‘Dude, you get chained to a wall on the full moon, you have nothing under control.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey kids sorry it's been a while. it was my birthday, i flew to the top of the country for a con ~~(met holland roden and tbh it was a spiritual experience lmao)~~ uh and yeah i died bc i was awake for 20 hours? and now i've been blocked af w this fic, i'm doing nanowrimo and??? everything happens so much my dudes.
> 
> anyway. this is mostly a filler chapter. if i update again this month it'll be nothing short of a miracle.

Derek was woken up the next morning, not by one of the teenagers in his apartment, or even a teenager _outside_ his apartment. No, it was the loud, intrusive banging on his front door that had him breaking out of his otherwise peaceful slumber. He figured it had to be someone he knew, because no one else knew where Derek lived, and the likelihood of it being one of his neighbours was slim to none, so he didn’t even think as he rolled out of bed, careful not to move Stiles too roughly off his chest, and made his way downstairs.

The light coming through the window of the main area was dull and Derek could still make out stars against the sky, so he guessed it was somewhere around six. That made it a little more unusual, but he was still not exactly… _concerned_.

Derek scrubbed a hand through his hair, as he yawned and opened his door. ‘Sheriff?’ he asked, taking in the sight of the other man, slightly dishevelled, in front of him. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I was hoping you could tell me that,’ the sheriff replied. ‘Is Stiles here?’

‘Uh…’

‘It’s okay if he is, I know you have kids crashing here on a nightly basis.’

‘In that case, yeah, he is.’ Derek stood back from the door and waved the sheriff through. ‘Can I get you some coffee?’

‘I’m not staying. I just couldn’t get hold of my son, and I bumped into Melissa McCall, who said she got a suspicious text from Scott saying, _“everything is totally normal, no serious injuries or gouges at all”_.’

Derek rolled his eyes. Fucking Scott, honestly. Kid had no poker face to speak of, not even over a _text_. ‘Right.’

‘I’m just here to figure out who exactly got gouged before I go home,’ the sheriff shrugged. ‘Could I speak to Stiles? Where is he?’

Derek sighed, and led him upstairs. ‘He’s still sleeping,’ he said, continuing down the hall and pushing open the door to his bedroom. ‘In here.’

‘This your room?’

‘It is.’

‘I hope there’s nothing funny going on between you two, Derek. I respect you, even if I don’t entirely trust you, but if there’s something going on here, then –’

‘Then we’ll be discovering where and how many times you can shoot me before I die?’ Derek guessed.

‘Something like that.’

‘Dad,’ Stiles mumbled, lifting his head off the pillow he’d landed on when Derek got up. ‘Nothing going on.’

‘I hope not, you’re underage,’ the sheriff muttered, like that was the exact last thing he wanted to be thinking about right now. (Which it probably was.)

‘Would be legal,’ Stiles said, gingerly sitting up, trying not to crunch his stomach too much as he did. ‘I guess this is my grand coming out moment, because, surprise, we’re soulmates.’

‘What?’ the sheriff said, at the same time Derek muttered, ‘Oh my _God_.’

‘Stiles, we’re going to talk about – are those _bandages_?’

‘Like I said, surprise!’

The sheriff looked to the ceiling for divine help, then back to his son. ‘Okay. Sure. A discussion for another time. Are you okay?’

‘Just a bit of clawing, nothing too bad,’ Stiles said, trying to keep his voice light. ‘Hey, Derek, could you get me some water?’

Derek nodded, taking the opportunity Stiles was handing him, and escaped down to the kitchen. He picked up a couple of painkillers for Stiles as well, because Deaton had mentioned something about them maybe being a good idea for the first day or so while the gashes began healing. When he arrived back in the bedroom, Stiles and his dad seemed to have finished their conversation, and they were wearing identical grimaces. Probably not a _pleasant_ conversation, then.

‘Stiles is staying here for a few days while he, uh,’ the sheriff looked to his son and frowned, ‘recuperates.’

‘Oh.’ Derek hadn’t actually considered it, but he wasn’t opposed. Stiles had been… weakened, and if Derek didn’t think he could protect himself that well _without_ slashes in his chest, then now he _definitely_ couldn’t – Derek would prefer to have Stiles where he could see him. ‘That’s okay.’

‘He thinks you’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

‘He’s right, I won’t,’ Derek said, coming over to the bed and handing Stiles the water and pills. ‘I’m not letting anything get to him.’

‘Because you’re soul–’

‘No, because he’s pack,’ Derek spared Stiles a glance as he set the water down on the bedside table. ‘But yes, that too.’

‘So, you intend –’

Stiles interrupted his father with a loud groan. ‘Jesus, Dad, it’s like six in the morning, can we not have this conversation right now?’

‘Stiles, I’m not going to just –’

‘Yes, you are. You’re gonna leave it alone, because _we_ have had this conversation, and you have nothing to worry about,’ Stiles paused thoughtfully. ‘Well, you can’t tell anyone about me and Derek, because it’s not exactly _safe_ , but that’s something else altogether.’

‘Not safe?’ the sheriff repeated. ‘Are you in danger because of this?’

‘Like I said, nothing and no one will get to him,’ Derek said. ‘It’s just a precaution for now.’

‘For now.’

‘Yes.’

The sheriff narrowed his eyes and looked between his son and his son’s soulmate. Apparently. ‘Okay, whatever. But if anything happens to him, me and my gun will be on your doorstep.’

‘Understandable,’ Derek nodded.

‘Now, I’m gonna go home. I expect you to keep me in the loop.’

‘Absolutely. I’ll walk you out.’

Stiles watched his dad and Derek leave, and sunk back into the pillows with a quiet hiss. That hadn’t exactly been the ideal way to let his dad into everything, but after the whole _“werewolves exist!”_ conversation, this had been a piece of cake. Kinda. He knew his dad wouldn’t care about the less-than-straight thing, and it was probably a relief for him to know that Stiles had found his soulmate, even if it was Derek Hale.

Not that there was anything wrong with Derek. Stiles did really like him, and he knew his dad did, too, despite how he acted around him. It was just something about how Derek could spontaneously grow fangs and claws that was a bit off-putting sometimes.

‘How are you feeling?’ Derek asked, reappearing in the bedroom, closing the door gently behind himself for some semblance of privacy, even though Scott was probably still asleep, and so, wouldn’t hear them.

‘Been better,’ Stiles replied, giving him a small smile. ‘I’d really like to thank the asshole that did this to me, though.’

‘I’ll have the pack go investigate later,’ Derek said, getting back into bed and staring up at the ceiling. ‘Your dad took that all pretty well.’

‘Yeah. Soulmates are probably a walk in the park by now.’

‘Probably.’

Stiles sighed as he wiggled a little to get comfy. He desperately wanted to twist and turn to find that sweet spot he had been in before, but with his stitches, that just wasn’t an option. Stiles whined quietly and resigned himself to being awake for the day.

‘C’mere,’ Derek murmured, digging a hand under Stiles’ hip and tugging him closer.

Stiles rolled onto his side, his head falling onto Derek’s shoulder, and sighed as Derek’s hand slipped under his shirt to make skin to skin contact. He let out another sigh, one a little deeper, as he felt instant pain relief from Derek drawing it out. ‘Thanks,’ he whispered, settling his head a little closer under Derek’s chin.

‘Any time,’ Derek replied. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what? This wasn’t your fault.’

‘I should’ve been there.’

‘I don’t blame you –’

‘I know, but –’

‘This is, like, the third time you’ve apologised, so please stop,’ Stiles said, talking over Derek. ‘You’re kind of ruining your image as a big, bad, alpha.’

‘Stiles, you have to realise that before I’m an alpha, you’re my _mate_ ,’ Derek said, shaking his head a little. ‘Unofficial, granted, but one day, that’s exactly what we’ll be, so you’ll need to excuse me if I’m a little worried that my mate got attacked by something and I wasn’t there to stop it.’

Stiles spluttered, trying to think of a way to reply to that, before he snapped his mouth shut and settled for, ‘Mates with training wheels?’

Derek blinked. ‘What?’

‘Like… training wheels.’

‘Yeah, I _got_ that.’

‘Until we’re the real thing. So the wheels are like… V plates.’

Derek groaned. ‘It’s too early for me to make sense of you.’

Stiles huffed and moved around a bit. ‘I’m going back to sleep.’

‘Thank God.’

‘Rude. But, uh, could you..?’

Derek splayed his hand across the small of Stiles’ back again to pull at his pain. ‘How bad is it? Honestly?’

‘Well, it’s going down. Hurts to move. Maybe like a five or six.’ Stiles yawned, pushing back slightly against Derek’s hand. ‘Mm, better.’

Derek decided not to say anything about how close his hand was to Stiles’ ass.

***

As it turned out, the pack didn’t need to do much to find what – _who_ – had attacked Stiles the previous night. Derek had gone with Scott back to the area it happened, after much persuading from Stiles, and jumped straight into a scent trail. They followed it a long way into the preserve and to the old Hale property, where there was a group of four people lounging on the porch.

They looked up at the sound of Derek and Scott approaching, and formed ranks, murmuring amongst themselves.

‘Who are you?’ Derek asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

‘Would it kill you to be a little nicer?’ Scott whispered.

Derek ignored him as they stopped a respectful distance from the other pack. Right now, they were outnumbered. If this went sour immediately, then they would not be getting out of it unharmed. And that was something that Derek, especially, couldn’t risk – not with Stiles already hurt.

‘Are you the alpha of this… town?’ one of the other werewolves asked – a tall, blond guy, maybe in his early twenties.

‘I am,’ Derek said, flashing his eyes red as proof. ‘What are you doing passing through here?’

‘Just that, passing through,’ the same guy replied. ‘We came to find you after a, uh, incident we think may have occurred last night.’

‘Would this _incident_ have anything to do with an attack on a member of my pack?’

A shorter brunette woman stepped forward, taking over the role of speaker for the group. ‘Our sincerest apologies. A younger member of our pack, one less in control of the turn, he escaped the group on our full moon run, and came back with blood on his hands. He said he didn’t remember what he did, so we wanted to find you and see if you knew what had happened.’

Derek exchanged a look with Scott, unsure if this telling of events sounded right. At Scott’s nod, Derek decided he could tell them the essentials. ‘From what my pack has told me, he came out of nowhere and ran past, slashing another of my pack quite badly.’

‘Has this other pack member healed okay?’ the woman asked.

‘He’s human,’ Derek replied shortly. ‘So that remains to be seen.’

‘I really cannot apologise enough on behalf of my pack and my beta,’ the woman flashed her eyes red to show her position. ‘We’ve never had problems like this before. My beta was recently turned and is still in his teens, so he’s having more trouble than expected.’

‘I understand,’ Derek nodded. ‘My betas are teenagers also, and my most recent… _acquisition_ has been having similar difficulties.’

‘How many betas, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘Five wolves.’

‘All teenagers?’

‘All teenagers.’

‘You’re braver than me,’ the woman smiled ruefully. ‘I’m Tanya Vincent, alpha of this pack.’

‘Derek Hale, alpha of Beacon Hills,’ Derek replied. ‘You said you were just passing through?’

‘Yes,’ Tanya nodded. ‘Though we’d also like your permission to briefly remain in your territory. We’ve been on the road for almost a week, so we’d like to rest for a few days before we move on.’

‘Of course. We would appreciate if you kept a low profile, and didn’t attack anyone else,’ Derek added with a small smile, trying to keep the conversation light.

‘Absolutely understandable. Truly, I do apologise for my beta’s actions. If it’s okay with you, I would also like to personally offer my apologies to your pack member.’

‘Perhaps, but he’s… weakened. If you have a phone number I can contact you on, I’d be happy to tell you whether he’s up to it,’ Derek offered.

‘Sounds good,’ Tanya said, bringing out her phone and taking a few steps closer to Scott and Derek to exchange numbers with him.

‘Thank you for making an effort to explain what happened,’ Derek said, as he and Scott turned to head back to the loft. ‘I do appreciate it, and please feel free to call me if there’s anything you need while you’re here.’

‘Thank you, Alpha Hale,’ Tanya nodded. ‘And if we leave without seeing each other again, thank you again for letting us stay for a few days.’

Derek just smiled, as he and Scott left, and the other pack faded into the distance.

‘That was weird,’ Scott muttered, looking back over his shoulder to where the other four wolves were now going into the forest. ‘So weird. So… polite.’

‘You need to be polite to visiting packs,’ Derek said, shoving his hands into his pockets. ‘You could make allies out of them. Especially nomadic packs like that, because they probably know packs up and down the country.’

‘One of them attacked Stiles, though.’

‘Didn’t you try to attack Stiles on your first turn? Jackson, even, he’s still having trouble with the full moon. Don’t judge too harshly, because everyone learns at different rates.’

‘You sound like you don’t even care that Stiles could’ve died,’ Scott accused. ‘You could’ve been a little more pissed off with them.’

‘I _am_ pissed off with them,’ Derek hissed. ‘Of course I care Stiles got carved up like a fucking Thanksgiving turkey, Jesus, Scott. Don’t know if you noticed how stuck to his side I’ve been for the last twelve hours.’

Scott blushed lightly, having the decency to at least look a little sheepish. ‘You were just so civil.’

‘Yes, I know. They would know something was up if I’d gotten defensive about it.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be if someone hurts a member of your pack?’

Derek was quiet for a few moments. ‘Not in the way I would be about Stiles.’

***

As soon as they arrived back at the loft, Derek made his way to where Stiles was sitting on the couch. He was wrapped in one of the super soft blankets from the spare bedrooms, a glass of water on one side, and a plate of toast on the other. He looked like shit, but that was to be expected.

Derek dropped his jacket over a chair on the way to Stiles, and rolled his sleeves up. He sat carefully on the couch and took Stiles’ toastless hand without saying a word, focused on drawing out his pain, feeling the now familiar dull ache running through his own body. Once Stiles’ relaxed a little, the sharpness disappearing from his eyes, Derek gently let go. ‘Better?’ he asked softly.

Stiles nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Anytime.’

‘But hopefully not anytime soon, right?’

‘Preferably.’

‘Did you find anything?’ Stiles asked, taking a small bite of his toast and chewing slowly.

‘We found the other pack. Part of it, at least,’ Derek said. He gave Stiles and Allison a brief rundown of what had happened, with Scott filling in a few nonessential details.

When Derek reached the part about Tanya offering to speak to Stiles personally, he watched Stiles’ eyes widen, and heard his heartbeat pick up. Scott looked over in alarm as well, standing up to come comfort him, but Derek was already there and taking care of it.

‘Hey,’ Derek said softly, squeezing Stiles’ hand. ‘I’m not gonna let them do anything to you.’

Stiles blinked, squeezing Derek’s hand back. ‘I just, I don’t know if –’

‘Stiles,’ Derek got up and quickly crouched in front of Stiles, right in his line of sight. ‘I’m not going to let them hurt you. You don’t even have to say you’ll do it, I’m behind you with whatever choice you make, okay?’

Stiles blinked again, his eyes focusing on Derek’s. ‘You won’t be mad if I turn them down?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Derek shook his head. ‘I’d halfway prefer it.’

‘Didn’t Scott say you said it would be better to keep on good terms with this pack, though?’

‘I did, but one of them still injured my training wheels-mate, right?’

‘Training wheels, right,’ Stiles murmured. ‘I do kinda want to punch the kid that did this, so can I think about it?’

‘You can think about it,’ Derek nodded. ‘Though I don’t really want you punching anyone, purely because Deaton will get on my case about you ripping stitches.’

‘I’ll punch him if you want,’ Scott offered. ‘Probably look bad if the alpha did, right?’

Derek frowned. ‘Wouldn’t be good for pack relations either way, but I suppose if things are already going south, you can punch him.’

‘Is that permission?’

‘That’s permission.’

Scott grinned, coming over to bump Stiles’ outstretched fist. ‘I got your back, bro.’

‘Thanks, dude,’ Stiles said, matching Scott’s grin. ‘Uh, should the rest of the pack be let in on this?’

‘They should be on their way here,’ Derek said. ‘Wanted to get any soulmate stuff out of the way before they arrived.’

‘So, are we officially part of the inner circle?’ Allison asked, joining the conversation for the first time. ‘Are we the only ones that know about you guys?’

‘Apart from my dad and Deaton, this is it,’ Stiles nodded. ‘We should get jackets.’

‘No,’ Derek shook his head. ‘We shouldn’t.’

Stiles frowned and looked like he wanted to argue the point, but then Erica swung the front door open with a bang, effectively cutting off any and all talk between them.

‘Hello, boys,’ Erica grinned. ‘And Allison.’

‘Come in and shut the door,’ Derek said, ignoring the way her eyes flicked to where he was still holding Stiles’ hand. Once more, he and Scott told the story about them meeting with the other pack, and the offer to speak with Stiles. Scott added in a few extra details that they had left out last time, while they both carefully cut around anything that could allude to the bond between Derek and Stiles.

‘So… what are we gonna do?’ Erica asked. ‘Bring them here and kill them or something?’

‘No, no killing anyone. That’s the opposite of what we should be doing. We need to be making allies out of them,’ Derek said. ‘Despite what happened with Stiles.’

‘Are you going to let their alpha apologise to Stiles or whatever?’

‘That’s for Stiles to decide.’

‘And?’

‘And Stiles is thinking about it,’ Stiles said. ‘I’m right here. He doesn’t make my decisions.’

Erica rolled her eyes. ‘Yesterday you were all about revenge and wanting to thank them for this, and now you’re just thinking about it?’

‘I’ve said Scott can punch the dude if it gets to that,’ Stiles said, narrowing his eyes at her. ‘Besides, what is it to you? Are you really in the mood to kill some people or something?’

‘Woah, woah, kill people?’ Lydia interrupted, speaking up from where she and Jackson were sitting in the shadows on beanbags. Everyone had sort of forgot she was there, not being used to their presence yet.

‘We’re not killing anyone,’ Derek repeated loudly, before anyone could start squabbling. ‘No one is dying, no one is fighting, this meeting won’t even happen if Stiles doesn’t want it to. He’s the one they want to talk to, and I’m not putting him through unnecessary stress by _making_ him. Got it?’

Erica looked ready to argue, but Derek flashed his eyes before she could try, and she nodded meekly. ‘Good. Any other questions?’

‘Yeah, why are you and Stiles holding hands?’ Lydia asked.

‘He’s taking my pain,’ Stiles said, grinning at the way Jackson rolled his eyes.

‘Surely, it’s not that bad,’ Jackson muttered.

‘What did he say?’ Stiles asked, holding his free hand up to cup his ear. ‘No advanced hearing, someone help me.’

‘He said it couldn’t be that bad,’ Scott relayed.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Stiles said sarcastically. ‘I’ve got like a billion stitches in my fragile human skin because I got shredded by an out of control werewolf like _you_ , but you’re right, it’s not that bad. I’m wearing a bandage across my entire fucking chest for fun. I’m sorry.’

‘I’m not _out of control_ ,’ Jackson said. ‘I have it _under_ control.’

‘Dude, you get chained to a wall on the full moon, you have nothing under control.’

‘I’m getting there.’

‘You really aren’t.’

‘Well,’ Lydia announced, standing up. ‘This has been fun. I really enjoy these weird talks, but we’re not getting involved in this mess.’

‘You’re pack, it’s kind of in the job description,’ Scott shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

Lydia ignored him and faced Derek. ‘Are we allowed to leave?’

‘Yes,’ Derek nodded. ‘But Scott’s right – you’re pack, so if something happens that requires everyone, that means _everyone_ , including you two.’

‘Whatever. Come on, Jackson,’ Lydia said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and heading out the door.

‘Bye, Lydia!’ Allison called.

‘I’ll text you!’ came the reply.

After the door had shut behind Jackson, Isaac turned to the rest of the pack. ‘Am I the only one that forgot they were here?’

‘No,’ Stiles said. ‘Definitely not.’

***

It was later that night when the rest of the pack had left, leaving Derek and Stiles alone in the loft, that Stiles made his decision.

‘I think I’ll do it,’ he said, shifting his head from where it was resting on Derek’s shoulder.

Derek frowned and muted the TV, looking down at him in surprise. ‘Do what?’

‘Meet the other pack. You said it would be good for pack relations, right?’

‘You don’t have to,’ Derek said. ‘We might be a small pack with no ties to any others right now, but that’ll change. We don’t have to make nice with the pack that attacked you.’

‘You said it was a teenager, right?’

‘Yeah, that’s what their alpha said.’

‘Well, I know that if it was one of _our_ teenage betas, they would want the opportunity to make things right. Ours would be torn up about hurting someone else.’

Derek smiled, nudging him gently. ‘ _Our_ betas, huh?’

‘You said I’m kind of an alpha, so yes, and I’m the pack mom already so leave it,’ Stiles rolled his eyes and nudged him back. ‘But you’re getting side tracked – any other member of our pack would feel shitty about it, and I know you would hate for the entire pack to be judged on an innocent mistake from one of the betas.’

‘You’re right, I would. This isn’t about the pack, though, Stiles. This is about you.’

‘I know, and this is my choice.’

‘Okay,’ Derek nodded. ‘Then I’m behind you. If this is what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do.’

‘Thanks,’ Stiles smiled. ‘Are you really not going to try to talk me out of it? I’m a little disappointed you haven’t gone all _overprotective alpha_ on my ass.’

‘There’s plenty of time for that,’ Derek shrugged, dislodging Stiles slightly. ‘I’ll call Deaton tomorrow and get him to check your stitches. If he says you’re healing fine, then I’ll text the other alpha.’

‘Can’t you smell if I’m healing okay? Don’t some animals have the ability to smell infection or whatever?’

‘Yes, and I can’t smell anything, but I want to be sure. Is that overprotective enough for you?’

‘For now,’ Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly, nestling back into his spot on Derek’s shoulder. ‘For now.’


	7. The Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Stop it.’  
> ‘Or what?’  
> ‘Or I’ll kiss you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so clearly nano is going well if i managed to write this chapter in like three days lol. (i still have less than 500 words. i don't think i'm completing nano this year.) 
> 
> anyway.

With Deaton giving Stiles the all clear, Derek sent a text to the visiting alpha and arranged to meet at the old Hale house later that day. The pack, Jackson and Lydia included, had been sent a group message to let them know when to show up, and so far, Stiles had managed to keep his cool.

It seemed that now Stiles had made his decision to meet the other pack and the boy that had attacked him, he was apparently calmer about the whole thing, knowing that he would be in considerably less danger because the whole pack would be with him. Together, they outnumbered the other pack, so… safety in numbers and all that.

When it came time to leave, Derek successfully managed to get Stiles bundled up in extra hoodies and even a scarf, and silently sent a prayer up to the universe for nothing bad to happen. He hoped he wasn’t tempting fate with that, but at this point, it felt like he needed all the help he could get.

He and Stiles arrived at the house first, and were joined not soon after by Scott and Allison. They made quiet conversation, muttering about the weather, before the rest of the pack drifted in as well.

Jackson and Lydia were, predictably, last to arrive. Lydia just rolled her eyes with a loud sigh and announced, ‘We didn’t know where we were going, because we don’t spend a lot of time out here. Sorry to be normal.’

The pack blinked at her in unison, with Stiles breaking the silence with a flatly stated, ‘He’s a werewolf.’

‘Werewolves can be normal.’

‘I don’t think that’s how it works.’

‘Well –’

‘Now’s not the time to argue,’ Derek interrupted. ‘The other pack is almost here.’

The pack shifted minutely, simultaneously forming ranks behind Derek and protecting the humans.

Stiles was standing very close behind Derek, lightly holding the back of his jacket, and if Derek hadn’t been so focused on trying to keep this situation friendly, and if the pack hadn’t been so close, he would’ve told him to move further back. If this came to a fight, they would go after Derek first, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk.

‘Scott,’ Derek said, speaking low enough for Scott to hear, but not the approaching pack. ‘If this goes south…’

‘I’ve got it,’ Scott replied, nodding on the left edge of Derek’s peripheral vision. ‘You know that.’

‘Just checking,’ Derek muttered.

A slight breeze blew through the open door of the house, bringing with it the scent of the other wolves. Their voices were now able to be heard over the silence of the pack, their footsteps on the porch, their entry into the house over the burnt threshold.

‘Alpha Hale,’ Tanya greeted, as she and her pack entered the main room. Their ranks were looser than Derek’s, and stayed that way to not appear hostile. ‘Thank you for meeting with us.’

‘Alpha Vincent,’ Derek smiled. ‘It’s not at all a problem.’

Tanya tilted her head backwards, as the tall, blond guy from a few days ago whispered something into her ear. ‘Is this the human? The boy with you?’

Derek nodded, ignoring the way Stiles’ hand clenched tighter in the leather of his jacket. ‘This is Stiles.’

‘Stiles,’ Tanya repeated, giving him a small smile. ‘I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for my beta’s behaviour towards you. It was totally unacceptable and should never have happened.’

Stiles moved slightly closer to the front of the pack. ‘I accept your apology,’ he said, his voice clear and unwavering. It sent a flash of pride through Derek, that he could be so anxious about this situation, but still keep his cool. ‘I understand that the shift can be difficult for newer and younger wolves, and I know that any of the betas in my pack would be hate to be judged on something that was beyond their conscious control.’

The flash of pride went through Derek again. _God_ , he was so proud of Stiles. Derek knew he had been getting more jittery and nervous the closer it came to this moment, so for him to be speaking so calmly and diplomatically about the situation was making the wolf in him _preen_ at how put together his mate was right now.

‘I certainly appreciate it,’ Tanya said, pulling forward a lanky boy with floppy black hair. ‘My beta, Caleb, would also like to apologise for what he did.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Caleb muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘For what I did. I’m sorry I wasn’t in better control and that I left my pack and hurt you.’

Derek felt Stiles soften next to him at the sight of this kid. Maybe he reminded him of Scott – the hair looked similar, and maybe if you squinted from far away, you could mistake them for each other. ‘It’s okay, dude, I get it,’ Stiles said. ‘I don’t wanna go all parental on you, but I hope this can be a learning experience, yeah?’

Caleb looked up and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. ‘Whatever.’

‘Caleb –’ Tanya tried.

‘No, you know what? Why am I even apologising to a human? They’re expendable.’

Derek’s eyebrows shot up at Caleb’s words. ‘Aren’t you newly turned?’

‘Yeah, and I’ve seen the light,’ Caleb shrugged. ‘Humans are stupid. You shouldn’t have them in your pack, they’ll only slow you down and make you an easier target.’

‘Alpha Hale,’ Tanya said, pushing Caleb back behind her. ‘I’m so sorry, he shouldn’t have said that. It totally doesn’t reflect the values of our pack at all.’

‘I know,’ Derek said, gently moving Stiles back behind him and noting that Scott had clenched his fists beside him. ‘Teenagers can be more difficult to control in every aspect.’

‘Absolutely,’ Tanya agreed. ‘I assure you that I will be having a serious discussion with him later.’

‘Good. In my experience, humans are invaluable. If anything, they make you stronger as a pack. We might be werewolves, but we’re also human, and they serve as a reminder of the side that can all too easily be lost.’

‘I agree. Now, I –’

‘They stink of each other,’ the blond guy said, leaning over to Caleb, not bothering to lower his voice enough for Derek not to hear. ‘What’s the bet that they’re –’

‘Troy!’ Tanya hissed, flashing her eyes at him, before she turned back to Derek once more. ‘My pack is getting a little unruly. If you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll return to our hotel before –’

‘Before I finish what I started,’ Caleb said, his mouth twisting into a feral grin. ‘And I bet you’d hate that, what with how you two are –’

Derek cut him off with a low growl, dropping his fangs threateningly. ‘I don’t think you want to finish that sentence.’

‘Derek, can I?’ Scott murmured.

Derek ignored him, putting his arm protectively in front of Stiles, wrapping his clawed fingers around his wrist. ‘Tanya, I think you and your pack should leave Beacon Hills, before my beta gives yours a taste of his own medicine.’

‘I think you might be right,’ Tanya said. ‘We’ll pack our things, and I’ll let you know when we’ve left. I would understand if you had betas escort us out, if you choose to do so.’

‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Derek said, keeping his red eyes on her pack. ‘I trust your word.’

Tanya nodded. ‘In that case, I appreciate your hospitality, and hope we can meet again under happier circumstances. I’m sorry, again, for this whole thing.’

‘I know.’

She nodded again, then jerked her head towards the door. Moments later, she and her pack had vanished from the house, and were out of hearing range.

Once Derek deemed it safe, he shifted back and turned around, barely catching Stiles before he hit the floor. ‘Jesus, Stiles,’ Derek sighed, half-carrying him to the staircase by the open door. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, totally fine,’ Stiles said faintly, clenching his eyes shut and grabbing onto the top of the handrail next to him. ‘Just, y’know, coming to terms with the fact that someone actually tried to kill me.’

‘He didn’t say –’

‘He said I was a waste of space and easily replaced and that he hates humans, so I’m kind of thinking he was totally in control and that he and that blond dude are on a mission to kill me. And other humans, I guess, but that’s not really my concern, seeing as I have _literally_ been attacked by them.’

‘Stiles, calm down,’ Derek said quietly, rubbing his hand gently over his back. ‘They’re going, no one’s gonna kill you.’

‘You can’t protect me all the time, Derek,’ Stiles said, taking short, shallow breaths. ‘Oh God, here we go, here it comes, I’m not having a panic attack in this fucking house!’

‘Stiles, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine.’

‘They’re going to _kill_ me!’

‘They’re not.’

Stiles hummed, his leg bouncing on the step under him, as he tried to get a hold on himself. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

The rest of the pack was gathered in the doorway, now, watching them on the stairs. Derek knew they were forming ideas of some sort, whether that be of the romantic kind, or the favouritism kind, he didn’t care. He just wanted to get Stiles out of this state, because really, he was not equipped for this right now.

‘Stiles, what can I do?’ he asked quickly. ‘What do you need from me?’

Stiles shook his head, his eyes still tightly shut.

‘Kiss him,’ Lydia said. The rest of the pack stared at her, waiting for some kind of explanation, while Derek considered whether it was worth it or not, even though he didn’t know why she had said it. ‘He’ll hold his breath, and the attack will stop. Kiss him.’

Isaac scoffed. ‘Why would Derek –’

Derek cut off that sentence without even saying anything, by surging forward to plant his mouth firmly on Stiles’, holding his face gently.

Stiles stopped moving, and instead relaxed into Derek’s hands. He sagged a little, and his hands moved to Derek’s shoulders.

It wasn’t exactly the ideal first kiss, what with it being born out of a desperate attempt to stave off a panic attack, but y’know. Could’ve been worse. Stiles’ dad could’ve been there to witness it.

Derek pulled back, clearing his throat and trying to come off as completely nonchalant about the whole thing. ‘Did it work?’ he asked.

Stiles blinked at him, his eyelashes sticking together with tears he hadn’t quite managed to let loose. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Great,’ he said, standing up and looking to the pack, who were all staring at them. _Oh God._ Derek didn’t want to deal with them right now, so he did his best to change the subject. ‘So, what’s up?’ he asked casually.

‘Why did you do that?’ Isaac asked. ‘You like… went for them. Kinda.’

‘No one says shit like that about my pack and gets away with it,’ Derek said. ‘Everyone can go home now.’

‘I’m gonna follow them to make sure they leave,’ Scott said. ‘Anyone else down?’

‘We’re in,’ Erica said, as Boyd stepped up beside her. ‘Stiles might be an annoying as hell human, but he’s _our_ annoying as hell human.’

‘Me too,’ Isaac said. ‘Please, if that’s okay, Derek.’

‘I won’t stop you,’ Derek shook his head. ‘Just don’t fight them. Try not to let them in on that you’re following them.’

‘Okay,’ Scott gave Allison a quick peck on the cheek. ‘We’ll see you guys later,’ he said, leaving the house with the other three behind him.

‘Can you give me a ride home?’ Allison said, nudging Lydia with her elbow.

‘Of course,’ Lydia smiled. ‘And Derek? While I might think you’re weird and moody, you did stick up for Stiles, and I believe that you would fight to protect him. Or, us, the humans. So…’

‘So you feel better being pack?’ Derek filled in.

‘Not really, but something like that,’ she turned towards the door, leading Jackson and Allison away. ‘Let us know when those disgusting people have left.’

***

The pack was now gathered at Derek’s apartment again, with Scott and the others confirming that the other wolves had left the limits of Beacon Hills. Things had settled a little after their confrontation, and now the effects of Derek’s actions were starting to come to mind.

‘Didn’t you say yourself that they could have powerful allies?’ Allison asked. ‘Surely, they wouldn’t call them or something and get them to come down here, would they?’

‘Yeah, we really aren’t equipped as a pack to have a war here,’ Isaac added.

‘Defending Stiles is all well and good,’ Lydia said. ‘But was it worth it? If they’re going to do something to get revenge or whatever? Come back and… well.’

‘No one says shit about pack,’ Derek said, repeating his words from earlier. ‘They wouldn’t call upon allies to “get revenge” when they were the ones in the wrong, and even then, only a few members of their pack. If it comes to it, we can kill them.’

‘Didn’t you say that changes eye colours?’ Lydia asked.

‘Jackson’s eyes are already blue,’ Stiles said. ‘I’m not sure why _you’re_ concerned. He’s the only one in this pack with –’

‘Actually, he’s not,’ Derek said quietly. ‘I don’t even know if it would change eye colour to kill them, because they’re not exactly… innocent lives.’

‘Are we really discussing the semantics right now? If they need to be killed, then they need to be killed,’ Erica said. ‘Not that I really want to kill anyone, but if it has to be done, then we’ve gotta do it, right?’

‘Right.’

‘Wait, who else has blue eyes?’ Stiles asked.

‘Me,’ Derek said. ‘But it’s beside the point – we’re not in any danger from allies to that pack, and I don’t think Tanya would let her betas leave easily, knowing they’re on a warpath against humans.’

‘And me, especially,’ Stiles muttered.

‘There’s nothing to worry about here,’ Derek stressed. ‘Nothing. In the event that any of them _do_ come back, or someone comes for you or any other human of this pack, it will be dealt with. No one is gonna die, clear?’

The pack murmured in agreement, and Derek nodded, satisfied. ‘I’m taking Stiles upstairs to change the bandage on his scratches. The rest of you can order pizza or something.’

The room erupted straight into an argument about what to order, giving Derek and Stiles the chance to go. Derek could tell from the frown on Stiles’ face that he had something he wanted to say, and distracting the pack with food would be the perfect time to do it.

Stiles ended up sitting on the closed toilet of Derek’s bathroom, the now familiar medical supplies spread out over the sink beside him. ‘You know,’ he said, wincing a little as Derek pulled off the bandage. ‘Back at the house with that other pack, I didn’t need you to defend me. Contrary to popular, aka _your_ , belief, I can actually handle myself.’

‘Yeah, but that’s the thing,’ Derek murmured, peering closely at Stiles’ chest. ‘I can’t.’

‘I’ve noticed.’

Derek sighed, taking the bottle of antiseptic and putting a tiny bit onto a bit of gauze to clean around the stitches. ‘We shouldn’t even be having this conversation, Stiles. You’re my mate – my _soulmate_ , and it’s not like we can just tell them that, but _God_ , if they’d known, they would’ve been worshipping the ground you stand on.’

‘I mean…’ Stiles paused, watching Derek work quickly and noting how it didn’t sting – maybe because Derek had his fingers lightly against his skin, tiny black tendrils creeping up his skin. ‘We could always fix that.’

‘Fix what?’

‘The mate thing.’

Derek stopped and looked up. ‘Contrary to popular, aka _your_ , belief,’ he mocked. ‘I don’t actually want you to die.’

‘Didn’t you say you’d make sure I didn’t? That you would protect me, what was it, above all else?’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Now’s not the time to be throwing that back in my face, Stiles.’

‘I’m not, I’m just saying. Isn’t the position of “mate” sort of protection in itself? Even if it is a risk?’

‘It’s too dangerous, Stiles. You’re not at the point with your magic where you could hide it.’

‘What if I had Deaton teach me straight away? I don’t need to be emissary first, werewolf soulmate second. It could be the other way around.’

‘Stiles –’

‘Is it bad of me to say I really enjoyed you being that protective?’ Stiles mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. ‘Kinda… hot.’

‘Stiles,’ Derek groaned, putting down the gauze and setting both his hands on Stiles’ thighs. ‘We’re not doing this.’

Stiles leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow and smirking at Derek. ‘Aren’t we?’

‘No.’

Stiles bit his lip, tilting his head a little. ‘Are you sure?’

Derek looked up from where he had been studying the tiles of his bathroom floor. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ he said, his voice a low growl.

‘I like when you do that,’ Stiles said, his own voice smooth as honey. ‘Have I told you?’

‘Stop it.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or I’ll kiss you.’

Stiles’ smirk turned into a grin. ‘Oh yeah?’

Derek’s eyes flashed red, as he barely managed to keep his wolf instincts in check. Every part of him wanted to take what Stiles was offering, but he knew – he _knew_ – it would only lead to disaster. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t. ‘Stiles,’ he said, still fighting against himself.

‘Yes?’

‘We’re not –’

‘Aren’t we?’

Derek shut his eyes. ‘Fuck you,’ he muttered.

Stiles laughed, and next Derek knew, he was kissing Stiles for the second time that day.

It should’ve been their first kiss, hungry and uncoordinated, biting and all consuming. Stiles was fire on Derek’s skin, where one hand was curled around the back of Derek’s neck, and the other clutching one of Derek’s on his thigh.

They broke apart, and Derek looked up at Stiles. His eyes were almost glowing under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom, making it look like part of Derek’s wolf eyes were being reflected in his soulmate’s.

‘That was a bad idea,’ Derek murmured, touching their foreheads together. ‘A very bad idea.’

‘Why? It’s not like we went… all the way.’

‘You’ve started something now, it’s all downhill from here.’

‘Not until I’m eighteen. I’d hate for my dad to shoot you before we actually get the chance to do anything fun.’

‘You don’t get it,’ Derek said. Stiles was, for lack of a better term, the forbidden fruit. He couldn’t have him, and he should never have been given a taste, because now he wanted more, and he knew that was a feeling that wouldn’t leave. Goddammit.

‘You don’t need to explain, because I think I understand exactly what you mean.’

‘Good. I’m glad you’ll be suffering.’

‘Ouch.’

Derek sighed and stood up to get a cloth. ‘Here,’ he said, running it under the tap. ‘Do your best to clean yourself while I finish off with this.’

‘Clean myself of what? I _am_ clean,’ Stiles said, dabbing at his skin suspiciously.

‘You smell like me.’

‘Dude, I’ve been living here and wearing your shirts for the last few days. I’m pretty sure I smell like you anyway.’

‘Not… like that.’

‘Do you smell like me, then?’

‘Probably.’

‘Is it even worth doing this?’ Stiles asked, now concentrating his cleaning efforts on his face. ‘Like, won’t it linger?’

‘We can’t go back down there smelling like we’ve been making out, Stiles,’ Derek said, smoothing on a clean set of bandages over Stiles’ chest.

‘Why not? They’re gonna find out anyway.’

‘Not yet.’

Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes. ‘Right, because they know you have a soulmate and wolves don’t do that.’

‘Yes.’

‘I hate it,’ Stiles grumbled, pulling his shirt back on, watching Derek as he disposed of the old bandages and put everything else away, before he started washing his own face. ‘I need to talk to Deaton. Maybe if I at least get some magic down, I have an excuse to be hanging around here that the pack won’t question it.’

‘You want to tell them you’re going to be the emissary?’ Derek asked, grabbing a towel to dry the water off his skin. ‘You know –’

‘I probably shouldn’t because in most cases only the alpha knows who the emissary is, assuming a pack has one at all,’ Stiles said in a monotone. ‘Yes, Deaton told me that as well.’

Derek stared at him for a moment. ‘Fine. If that’s what you want to do, but you don’t have to. They think we’ve bonded over your near-death experience anyway.’

‘Maybe they’ll think we’re starting an illicit affair otherwise.’

‘Let them,’ Derek shrugged. ‘Either way, it’s none of their business right now.’

Stiles hummed thoughtfully, standing from the toilet lid and heading out. ‘Maybe I won’t say anything just yet. I’m not saying I will, but if I end up backing out of the emissary thing, the fewer people that knew about it, the less embarrassing it will be. Just, y’know, in case it doesn’t go anywhere.’

‘Good plan,’ Derek nodded. ‘How is your chest feeling?’

‘It’s fine. The bandages feel weird, but whatever. Getting better.’

‘Good. You should probably go home soon.’

‘What, you don’t want me here?’

‘No, I do,’ Derek said, shuffling him carefully the rest of the way out the bathroom. ‘Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be.’

‘Right,’ Stiles laughed quietly. ‘Can you hear what they’ve ordered?’

Derek tilted his head a little to hear the voices of the pack downstairs clearer. ‘Sounds like they settled on pizza.’

‘That’s good. We can have midnight pizza if there’s any leftover.’

Derek paused halfway down the hall, holding Stiles back as well. ‘Just be careful what you say,’ he murmured. ‘Remember if I can hear them, they can hear us.’

‘Maybe Deaton has a spell for that, too,’ Stiles muttered, heading for the stairs again. ‘Be handy for sleepovers.’

‘Stiles!’ Derek hissed, fighting the blush making its way over his skin at Stiles’ implication, and earning another quiet laugh for the effort.

‘Hey, guys!’ Stiles greeted, as he and Derek landed back in the lounge area. ‘Pizza on the way?’

‘Yep! Hope you’re paying, Derek,’ Scott grinned. ‘We ordered garlic bread as well.’

Derek rolled his eyes as he took his customary spot in the big, well-worn leather armchair. ‘I feel like all of you are only in this pack for the food perks.’

‘Well, it’s definitely… a perk.’

‘We’re here because we didn’t have a choice,’ Lydia said, not expecting anyone to hear her over the chatter, but forgetting she was in a room full of people with supernatural hearing.

‘The thing is,’ Derek said. ‘No one is making you be in this pack. It’s just better for everyone if you and Jackson are, because otherwise you’ll be on your own, and that’s not a good place to be.’

‘The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,’ Stiles added, effectively cutting off any witty retorts. ‘Also, free food. Who’s picking a movie?’

***

‘It’s like she’s being held hostage,’ Stiles said, once the pack had left and he and Derek were getting ready for bed. It seemed Lydia’s comments had been playing in his mind, so Derek was letting him get it out before he burst. ‘Really, this pack is keeping her boyfriend alive, so she could be a little more grateful.’

‘She has also been dragged unwillingly into this,’ Derek shrugged. ‘Both of them. I can understand why she’s not happy about it.’

‘She could at least _act_ a bit happier about it.’

‘Yes, but she won’t.’

‘No, she won’t,’ Stiles agreed, climbing into bed beside Derek, and looking up to the ceiling. ‘Oh hey, you have a skylight.’

‘Yep,’ Derek said, sliding in and pulling the covers over them both.

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘This isn’t the first time you’ve been in my room, Stiles.’

‘Yeah, but I never actually noticed. I was sort of freaking out about… y’know. Being in your bed. There’s been a lot of getting to sleep as fast as possible, and passing out in here, but looking up? Not so much.’

Derek bit his lip, doing his best not to make the joke that was hanging so obviously in the air.

Stiles, apparently, had none of the same reservations. ‘But I think that’ll change. I might end up spending a lot of time facing your ceiling in the future, but maybe with your fucking enormous head in the way.’

Derek groaned. ‘In that case, enjoy the uninterrupted view while you can.’

‘Thanks,’ Stiles said, as Derek turned on his side, ready to sleep. ‘Hey, you ever see any stars from here?’

‘Sometimes,’ Derek said, his voice a little muffled by the edge of the pillow. ‘But my eyesight is better than yours.’

‘Is there too much light pollution here to see them clearly?’

‘I guess.’

Stiles was quiet for a few moments, probably still looking at the sky. ‘I bet you can see them better from in the preserve.’

Derek hummed in agreement. ‘Before the fire, when there were no clouds at all, my mother would take me and my sisters and cousins outside, and she’d tell us stories about the constellations we could see. We’d spend hours out there, huddled in blankets on the porch, or out on the grass.’

‘That sounds nice.’

‘Yeah,’ Derek sighed. ‘I wish I’d known that one day she wouldn’t be able to tell us stories anymore. Maybe I would’ve spent more time listening to them and less time thinking they were for babies.’

‘What was your favourite?’

‘Dawn and Orion.’

‘Oh.’ Stiles made a mental note to look it up, then looked over to where Derek was huddled on his side, clearly wanting to end this conversation. ‘Anyway, night.’

Derek was silent for long enough for Stiles to think he’d fallen asleep, but then quietly said, ‘Goodnight, Stiles.’


	8. Over The Fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘For a werewolf, he has terrible hearing,’ Derek said, starting the car again and continuing to the diner.  
> ‘Give it a second,’ Stiles said, waving his phone in the air. Moments later, it let out a little _ding!_ signifying a text.
> 
> **SCOTT:** _you’re gross and i'm kinkshaming you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops so it's been a little longer than expected... my bad.

When almost a week had passed, with no unexpected visitors in the form of packs coming to avenge their allies, things started to settle again. It was like the pack collectively took a breath and made a conscious effort to put it out of their minds, because maybe nothing was going to come of it, and with each passing day, it seemed to get a little less likely.

Derek had the betas running patrols every night through the preserve, making sure there were no new and unfamiliar scents of other wolves, but even he was telling them that they should probably only do them every two or three nights, as they had been doing before.

Stiles had gone home a couple of days after the other pack left, with his wounds definitely on the mend. That might’ve been to do with the little bit of extra help Deaton was giving, and all the pain Derek was taking to make it that much easier. It did look like Stiles would have a bunch of new scars there, though, but he was insistent that he was okay with it.

‘They make me look badass,’ he told Derek when it was brought up. ‘I mean, it’s not like I have that much else going for me in the way of badassery.’

‘You don’t need to have _anything_ going in the way of badassery,’ Derek muttered, covering up the scratches with fresh bandage once more. Deaton had said they could probably stop with the bandaging now, but Derek was more than a little paranoid that Stiles would do something to reverse their hard work in healing them.

‘See?’ Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘This is why I need them. You think I’m this weak little kitten that can’t defend itself.’

‘You’re human, and that’s about as close as it gets in this pack.’

‘Okay, first off, fuck you. Secondly, I kinda dig them.’

‘One day, you might not think that.’

‘Well, for now, I think they make me look tough. Besides, I think Deaton can teach me how to heal them completely, or something like that. I might just be making that up.’

‘Who knows. Maybe you’re right.’

Siles grinned and knocked his knee into Derek’s chest gently. ‘Exactly. What time is the pack getting here?’

‘Soon, probably,’ Derek said, getting up and tidying up his first aid supplies, in a now familiar routine. ‘I think Erica mentioned bringing Monopoly.’

‘Oh, great,’ Stiles said, slipping a shirt on. ‘If the other pack didn’t kill me, then I’m pretty sure this one will when I beat their asses.’

Derek huffed and leaned against the doorway while he waited for Stiles to finish… whatever he was doing. Restyling his hair, it looked like. ‘They’re not going to kill you.’

‘You don’t know that. Have you seen the way the betas are looking at me now? They look like they want to rip me apart. Especially Erica.’

‘Erica kind of just has that look to her,’ Derek shrugged. ‘Are you saying this because you think they think I’m cheating on a soulmate I haven’t met yet with my actual soulmate?’

‘Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying,’ Stiles nodded, as they left the bathroom and headed downstairs. ‘I’m also saying please don’t leave me in a room with her alone because she could definitely take me and I’m not ashamed to admit it.’

‘She wouldn’t –’

‘Uh, she would.’

Derek sighed and dropped onto the couch with Stiles. ‘Maybe I should teach you a few moves, so that if it comes down to it, you won’t always have to rely entirely on magic to defend yourself.’

‘Yeah, well, right now I can’t even do that,’ Stiles said. ‘I should really get talking to Deaton.’

‘As long as it won’t interfere with school,’ Derek reminded him.

‘Oh my God, you’re not my dad.’

‘No, and thank god for that,’ Derek muttered. ‘Just remember that we’ve lasted without an emissary this long, so we’re okay to wait until you’re ready. _I’m_ okay to wait. You don’t need to rush into it.’

‘I don’t trust that other pack. They might not be here, but I don’t want to be unprepared for when they come back.’

‘What makes you think they will?’

‘The way they looked at me. The way they looked at _you_.’

‘How were they looking at me?’

Stiles turned to face Derek, studying his face for a moment before he spoke. ‘Not with respect.’

‘That’s cryptic.’

‘I’ve been hanging out with you a lot. It’s rubbing off.’

***

The next day, Stiles went to see Deaton. They had arranged to start meeting up, so he could learn how to use his spark, now that he was officially out of the woods with his injured chest. He had turned up to the animal clinic, expecting to do more fun things, maybe involving actual magic, but had been handed a dusty book with moth eaten edges and told to go home and read.

Which was how Stiles found himself sitting at his kitchen table, chemistry textbook on one side, and… whatever the hell Deaton had given him on the other. He was jumping back and forth between them, so when one got too boring or tedious, he could switch to the other. It wasn’t exactly a practice that was working well, because he found himself getting confused very easily, as it turned into one sentence from each at a time.

Stiles could feel the frown on his face growing deeper with each passing second, and wished desperately for a distraction so he could reset before he lost it completely at these stupid pages.

‘Hey,’ his dad called, as he swung the front door open, barely catching it before it hit the wall with a bang. ‘You home?’

‘Yeah, in here,’ Stiles replied, shutting both books and pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. ‘How was work?’ he asked, as he heard his father’s footsteps in the room.

‘Same old. What are you doing?’

‘Homework,’ Stiles sighed, moving his hands into his hair and blinking away the spots in his vision.

‘That doesn’t look like homework,’ the sheriff said, nodding to the book Deaton had given Stiles.

‘Oh, no, it is.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘For what class?’

Stiles groaned. The thing was, he and his father didn’t really keep secrets from each other. It was just the two of them, and if they couldn’t trust each other to keep things open, then they would fall apart. Trust was the foundation of their relationship, and Stiles had promised to keep his dad in the supernatural loop. After finding out werewolves were a thing, then surely, magic would be pretty easy to understand.

‘Stiles,’ his dad said warningly. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

_Ah, yes. That’s why he’s sheriff._ He could read Stiles like a book. ‘You see,’ Stiles said slowly, monitoring his dad for any change in body language. Or breathing. ‘On top of being the soulmate of an alpha werewolf, I’m apparently what’s called a spark.’

‘A spark.’

‘Yes.’

‘A spark of what.’

‘Well, uh. I have no idea. Magic, I guess? A magic spark? I can use magic, basically.’

‘Magic,’ the sheriff repeated, nodding slowly. ‘Okay, sure. Where did that book come from?’

‘Deaton. He’s kind of… training me.’

‘Alan Deaton, the vet? He’s training you to use magic?’

Stiles shrugged. ‘Yeah.’

‘Do I need to talk to him?’

‘About what? Like I guess you can, but if you’re going to give him the _“School comes first!”_ talk, then Derek beat you to it.’

‘Derek knows?’

‘Of course, he does,’ Stiles said, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. ‘There was a small thing that I did that was weird, so he went with me to talk to Deaton to see if it was connected to our soulmate thing and this was where we ended up.’

‘Deaton, the animal doctor, _naturally_ seemed like the person to talk to about weird stuff?’ the sheriff asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

‘Yeah, he’s like, a druid or something. He was the emissary to Derek’s mom when she was alpha, so now he’s training me to be Derek’s. Says it’ll keep me out of danger, more or less.’

‘God knows you need all the help you can get in _that_ department,’ the sheriff muttered. ‘Okay, well, I’ll talk to Deaton, and see if he can give me any better information, because you don’t sound like you know what you’re talking about.’

‘That’s only because I’ve been reading two books at the same time about very different subjects, so we’re kind of lucky I can even form coherent sentences,’ Stiles said. ‘I’m gonna take a break and… I don’t know. Call Derek or go on YouTube or something.’

‘Okay, but make sure you finish your homework.’

‘I will,’ Stiles said, flashing a smile. ‘I’m nearly done anyway.’

‘Good, I’ll get started on dinner soon. But – Stiles?’

Stiles paused on his way to the stairs, poking his head back into the kitchen. ‘Yeah, Dad?’

‘Just tell me you know what you’re doing.’

Stiles sighed. ‘Occasionally.’

***

**STILES:** _hey anything fun going on tonight?_

**DEREK:** _…no?_

**STILES:** _damn_

**DEREK:** _why?_

**STILES:** _deaton gave me this book and i’ve finished my chem homework like that’s how bored i am of reading it_

**STILES:** _so i wanna do something fun_

**DEREK:** _nope no pack stuff_

**DEREK:** _but that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out_

**STILES:** _like a date?_

**DEREK:** _if you want_

**DEREK:** _have you had dinner?_

**STILES:** _yeah my dad was home so he made lasagne but if u want to take me to dinner i won’t object ;)_

**DEREK:** _how about desert instead_

**STILES:** _if it involves any kind of licking sauce off body parts i might have to reluctantly pass bc i have school in the morning and probably shouldn’t sleep over/not sleep at all :(_

**DEREK:** _*eye roll* no licking. i'll pick you up soon and we’ll get pie or something from that diner you like_

**STILES:** _sounds like a plan :)_

**DEREK:** _great i'll text you when i'm outside_

Stiles grinned at his phone, slamming Deaton’s book shut with enough enthusiasm to send a cloud of dust into the air. If Stiles read one more word about protective sigils, he was going to draw one to protect himself from stabbing out his own fucking eyeballs.

He raced down the stairs, catching himself on the end of the bannister to stop from colliding with the wall. ‘Hey, Dad?’ he called.

‘In here,’ the sheriff replied from the living room. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m going out soon for a little while. My chemistry homework is finished, and I don’t have a set time for Deaton’s stuff.’

‘Okay. Who with, where, and when will you be back?’

‘Derek, diner, don’t know?’ Stiles said. ‘I’m not fifteen anymore, you don’t need to keep tabs on me so closely.’

‘Clearly, I wasn’t keeping close _enough_ tabs on you when you were fifteen, because that was when you started showing up at crime scenes with no explanation.’

‘I’m just going to get pie with my boyfriend.’

‘Oh, he’s your boyfriend now, is he?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ Stiles said, then because he was apparently looking to have an awkward conversation, he added, ‘like, he’s my soulmate and I’m sure we’ll start dating at some point, so it seems like a good idea to get on with it.’

The sheriff sighed loudly and reached for the remote to mute the TV. ‘Stiles, I know that you’re young and the idea of love and soulmates is exciting to you, but you’re not doing anything with Derek until you’re eighteen.’

‘Dad, I –’

‘Soulmate status aside, he is still a grown man, Stiles.’

‘Dad –’ Stiles tried, rolling his eyes when his dad just kept powering on through with his speech, which sounded suspiciously like it had been rehearsed.

‘And I know that eventually the two of you will start doing things and experimenting, and when it gets to that point, I just want to tell you to make sure you’re safe, and that he doesn’t make you do anything you don’t –’

‘Dad!’ Stiles cried. ‘Holy shit, I know, okay? We’re not doing anything, and have no plans to start.’

The sheriff blinked. ‘Really?’

‘ _Yes_ , really,’ Stiles confirmed. ‘We’re not even like… making out. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. The pack doesn’t know, and they _can’t_ know, not yet, and anything too much is… well. They can smell it.’

The sheriff’s face crumpled awkwardly, as he realised he probably could’ve spared giving the speech. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. Oh.’

 

**DEREK:** _i'm here_

‘Okay, well, this has been fun, a real bonding experience I’m sure I’ll never forget, but Derek’s here. I’ll be back before curfew.’

‘Ten, remember.’

‘Yes, Dad. I know,’ Stiles said, grabbing his jacket off a hook beside the door. ‘But Dad?’

‘Yeah?’

Stiles smiled softly. ‘Thanks.’

‘Anytime, kid,’ his dad replied, unmuting the TV and giving the signal that Stiles could go.

‘See you later!’ Stiles said, as he pulled shut the front door, jogging across the road to Derek’s car.

‘Hey,’ Derek greeted, as Stiles slid into the passenger seat. ‘Having a fun conversation with your dad?’

‘Were you listening to us?’

‘Not intentionally.’

‘Great, I love that,’ Stiles muttered, clicking his seatbelt in. ‘I was promised desert?’

Derek cracked a smile. ‘Right.’

They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes, with Stiles jiggling his leg a little as a sense of unease settled over him. He tried to ignore it, tried to calm down his movements, but found that same feeling growing stronger. ‘Stop the car.’

Derek pulled over immediately, turning to Stiles with a look of concern on his face. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Something’s wrong,’ Stiles said, his eyebrows pulling together as he tried to figure out what it was. ‘Something doesn’t… feel right.’

‘Okay,’ Derek said slowly. ‘Is it _you_? Is it something wrong with you? Did your stitches rip or something? If you’re going to throw up, do it _outside_ my car.’

Stiles instinctively touched his chest, feeling no dampness from blood, or pain from anything else. ‘No, it’s more… a vibe.’

‘A vibe?’

‘Yeah, something isn’t –’

Stiles was interrupted by Derek’s phone going off in the centre console of the car, _Scott McCall_ flashing on the screen.

‘Please, let that just be Scott saying Allison’s dad is chasing him with a gun or something,’ Stiles said, stopping his leg from moving by digging his fingers into his thigh instead.

‘Scott,’ Derek said, answering his phone. ‘Bad news?’

It was times like these that Stiles wished he had supernatural hearing, and Derek must’ve realised that, because he took the phone from his ear and put it on speaker.

_‘…so they’re apparently on the way, if the trails are anything to go by, I guess,’_ Scott was saying.

‘What’s this?’ Stiles asked.

‘There’s another pack coming to Beacon Hills,’ Derek said, filling him in. ‘Some contacts of Argent’s let him know so he could look out for trouble. He was kind enough to get Allison to pass on the tip.’

‘Shit,’ Stiles said. ‘Big pack or small pack?’

_‘He doesn’t know,’_ Scott replied. _‘Possibly about the same size as the last one. Argent doesn’t think it’ll be the full pack, maybe just some scouts or something.’_

‘That’s better at least, right?’ Stiles asked. ‘If it’s only a few?’

‘Yeah, but scouts could be looking for new territory, or a weak alpha for their pack to overtake, so it’s power _and_ territory at once,’ Derek said. ‘So, it’s not ideal.’

Stiles groaned. ‘I need to talk to Deaton again.’

‘Why?’

‘There has to be a way to make this magic process go faster, right?’

_‘That’s probably not something you should be playing around with, dude,’_ Scott said.

‘What are you, my dad?’

_‘I’m your brother. It’s close enough.’_

Stiles frowned. ‘I hate when you’re right. Doesn’t mean I have to listen to you, though.’

_‘Derek, you need to tell Stiles to stop playing with fire.’_

‘I’m his soulmate, not his father.’

Stiles hummed thoughtfully. ‘Imagine if –’

‘Don’t finish that sentence,’ Derek interrupted.

‘Daddy,’ Stiles whispered.

‘Absolutely not. Scott, we’ll talk later, okay?’

_‘Okay, cool. See you at school, Stiles,’_ Scott said cheerfully, before the line went dead.

‘For a werewolf, he has terrible hearing,’ Derek said, starting the car again and continuing to the diner.

‘Give it a second,’ Stiles said, waving his phone in the air. Moments later, it let out a little _ding!_ signifying a text.

 

**SCOTT:** _you’re gross and i'm kinkshaming you._

Stiles grinned and showed the screen to Derek. ‘He knows better than to say things sometimes.’

‘At least one of you does. How are you feeling?’

The smile faded from Stiles’ face, and he settled back into his seat with a shiver. ‘Better, I guess, now that I know what’s coming, but still not great.’

‘Do you want to stay with me for a few days?’ Derek asked. ‘If it’ll help.’

Stiles shook his head. ‘Nah, it’s okay. Just need to up my magical game, I think. Besides, I can’t leave my dad alone, can I?’

‘Your dad has several guns, so I think he’ll be okay. This could be a completely unrelated pack, remember. They might pass straight by Beacon Hills.’

‘I doubt it. A pack like this isn’t something that can just be ignored.’

‘We’ll see,’ Derek said, pulling into the lot behind the diner. ‘We might be making something out of nothing, Stiles.’

‘Maybe, but until we know, I need to –’

‘Talk to Deaton.’

‘Yes, I do. I want to be prepared this time. Uh, also, I think you should let us pack humans join in your wolfy fight club.’

‘We don’t have a fight club,’ Derek frowned.

‘Right, yeah,’ Stiles tapped his nose. ‘Of course.’

‘But it’s probably not a bad idea to start one, because the humans can’t be left defenceless.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So,’ Derek said, as they headed into the diner. ‘If we do that, will you leave talking to Deaton as a last resort? Scott’s right when he says you shouldn’t play with fire, and what you’re talking about is pretty much a bonfire.’

‘I know. I just don’t want to be left the way I was last time,’ Stiles said, touching his chest absently as they sat at a table and picked up menus.

‘Yeah,’ Derek murmured, glancing at Stiles over the top of his menu. ‘I don’t want you to, either.’

***

Deaton didn’t look entirely unsurprised to see Stiles in his waiting room the next afternoon. He just raised an eyebrow and looked down to his appointments book, before he sighed and said, ‘Flip the sign.’

Stiles nodded and stood from the chair he’d claimed, as he waited for the vet’s last client to leave. He went through to the back, somewhere he was all too familiar with, especially for someone who had no pets to speak of. ‘I need to ask you something.’

‘Of course, Stiles. How are you doing with that book I gave you?’

‘Yeah, it’s okay. Not exactly a page turner, but I guess it’s interesting.’

‘That’s good to hear. Did you bring Derek, by chance? I need to speak with him about a… situation.’

‘No, he doesn’t know I’m here,’ Stiles said, his eyes flicking around like he half expected someone from the pack to be listening in. ‘And I need you to promise me you won’t tell him I came.’

‘Oh?’

‘I know there’s a way to do it, so I need your help to… fast track my magic, I guess. There’s another pack coming, and I don’t want to be in the same position as last time. Even if they’re a friendly pack, I need to be prepared, and magic is the weapon no one sees coming.’

‘Magic is not a weapon, magic is a tool. It can be wielded many ways,’ Deaton said. ‘In the book I gave you, there are sigils that you can use to channel it more effectively. You’ll need to practice using it if you choose to go through with the process, because it will become much clearer and harder to hide. The amount of power you would find yourself with would be the equivalent of many, _many_ years practice, all at once.’

‘But it’ll be easier to use?’ Stiles pressed. ‘I’ll be able to defend myself and the pack?’

‘You’ll still need to study the books I give you to learn how to use it properly, but yes.’

Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly, drumming his fingers on the table between them. ‘You’re making it sound like there’s a catch.’

Deaton smiled and inclined his head. ‘That’s because there is.’

‘And?’

‘This entire process if very dangerous, Stiles.’

‘How dangerous?’

‘Not many people see the immediate power as being worth the risk, because it could _literally_ burn you out.’

Stiles hummed as he pondered this. ‘Meaning I could die.’

‘Meaning you could die,’ Deaton agreed. ‘Stiles, I know you want to be prepared, but this isn’t the way to go about it.’

‘Going off what we know about my magic, do you think I could die?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know. It does seem like yours is strong, like you might be gaining some semblance of control over it already, but magic is volatile, and it could destroy you all the same. It’s not worth it, Stiles, and it’s definitely not something to do on a whim, you understand?’

‘Yeah, I understand,’ Stiles said softly. ‘I’m not saying I will do it, but I was curious if there was a way to… y’know.’

‘Gain power.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, without building your magic and getting used to it gradually, that’s all there is. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better answer,’ Deaton said. ‘But do practice, because every little bit helps, and I’m sure it will make you more confident when this new pack arrives.’

‘Yeah, I hope so,’ Stiles nodded. ‘I should go, but like I said – please don’t tell Derek we had this conversation. Or my dad.’

‘Of course. Feel free to contact me with any other queries.’

‘Thanks. You’ve been very helpful with everything so far, and I really appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome. Now, please flip the sign back when you leave.’

Deaton turned around and started organising a tray of surgical tools, so Stiles took that as a sign to make his exit. He had a lot to think about.

***

Stiles was studying – _actually_ studying – when Derek climbed in his window later that night. He had a couple of assignments due in the coming weeks, so he figured that maybe he should be getting some work done on them, which meant Deaton’s books were sitting unopened on his desk. He kind of wanted to find the sigils Deaton had mentioned earlier, but his promise for school to come first kept ringing through his head, so he sighed and put them on the floor out of sight, so he wouldn’t be tempted to go browsing.

‘Hey,’ Derek greeted, sliding the window down behind himself. It was raining outside – not hard, but hard enough for him to get wet between exiting his car, and getting into Stiles’ house. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Homework,’ Stiles said, sliding his pen behind his ear and turning his chair around to face Derek. ‘What’s up?’

‘I talked to Deaton.’

Stiles’ heart dropped. Surely the vet wouldn’t have betrayed his trust like that. ‘Oh? About what?’

‘The pack coming to us,’ Derek said, shucking his jacket and going over to hang it on the hook behind Stiles’ door. ‘He’s heard some things.’

‘Like what?’

‘Mostly that they’re just scouts, but their alpha is power hungry and not afraid to spill blood.’

‘That’s not promising,’ Stiles said slowly. ‘Did he hear anything else?’

‘He also said that apparently if you make a good impression on the scouts, they’ll tell their alpha to move on and leave us alone.’

‘Jesus,’ Stiles groaned. ‘Couldn’t you have led with that?’

Derek shrugged, folding himself onto Stiles’ bed. ‘Probably. I just came to tell you that we’re officially starting a fight club, so you and the others can learn some self-defence.’

‘Oh. That’s good.’

‘And I asked Deaton how you were doing with magic, and he said you were progressing pretty well, so that already makes me feel better about this pack coming,’ Derek smiled. ‘Got any new tricks?’

‘Nope, no new tricks. I’m a one trick pony, and I deal exclusively in mountain ash circles, and lighting candles with my mind.’

‘That’s two tricks.’

‘Yeah… math isn’t a super strong point for my pony self.’

‘Still, better than the rest of us.’

‘Yeah…’ Stiles frowned. ‘I kind of wanted to talk to you about that, actually.’

‘About what?’

‘I think we should tell the pack about me being emissary.’ Stiles took a deep breath as he waited for Derek’s reaction. He’d been thinking about it for a while, and with or without the boost to his magic, Stiles was still on that path. If they couldn’t tell the pack they were soulmates, then they could at least stop lying about this as well – not that Stiles really expected the pack to immediately know what an emissary even _was_.

‘Hmm,’ was all Derek said. He narrowed his eyes a little, tilting his head as he looked at Stiles. ‘That’s something you want to do?’

‘Yes. They deserve at least _some_ honesty from us.’

‘Okay,’ Derek nodded.

Wait. ‘That’s it?’

‘What did you want me to say?’

‘I don’t know, but I was expecting some big argument, like _“blah blah, that’s not safe, blah blah, only the alpha knows!”_ or something.’

‘That’s not always the case.’

‘I know, I’ve been reading Deaton’s books, remember.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, I remember. It’s up to you, Stiles. I’ll go with whatever you choose.’

‘Really?’ Stiles was surprised. This was going _far_ better than he anticipated.

‘Of course, it’s not my decision to make, whether or not you’re my soulmate.’

‘Okay,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Tell them next pack meeting?’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It’s what I want.’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

‘Stiles,’ the sheriff called, knocking on the closed bedroom door. ‘Dinner is ready!’

‘I’ll be right down.’

‘Tell Derek he’s welcome to stay, and that he’s welcome to use the front door as well. He must be getting tired of climbing through the window.’

‘Will do,’ Stiles said, as he blushed slightly. ‘Uh, want to stay for dinner?’

‘It’s fine, I just came to pass on what Deaton said to me,’ Derek shrugged. ‘Though I think I will use the front door.’

‘Okay, sure,’ Stiles said, leading them both from his room. ‘You know a text would’ve been fine, right? Or a phone call?’

‘Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you,’ Derek said, before he could stop himself.

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, did you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Derek, staying for dinner?’ the sheriff asked, as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. He was leaning casually on the doorframe to the dining room, but the tenseness in his shoulders belied his motives.

‘No, thank you. I just came to talk to Stiles,’ Derek said politely.

‘Are you sure? There’s more than enough.’

‘It’s fine, really. I have a few things to do tonight, so I should really be going.’

‘Okay, you have a good night then,’ the sheriff said, retreating to the table. ‘Stiles, make it fast before the food goes cold.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Stiles said, walking Derek to the door, closing the door gently as they stepped onto the porch. ‘Keep me updated if you hear anything else about the… situation.’

‘Of course,’ Derek said, bumping his elbow into Stiles’ ribs. ‘You’re my number two, remember?’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes, Stiles.’

‘Oh, cool,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Uh, I should go. Talk later?’

‘Yeah, talk later,’ Derek nodded, turning and going towards his car, ducking as he hurried through the rain, and Stiles went back inside.

‘So, Derek was here,’ the sheriff said, as soon as Stiles sat at the table. ‘What was he doing in your room?’

‘I think he’s just scared of you, so he avoids coming through the door,’ Stiles said honestly, as he poked at the mound of croutons on his plate disguised as a salad. ‘Don’t worry, we weren’t up to anything. Just, y’know, pack business.’

‘Oh,’ his dad frowned. ‘Anything I should know?’

‘Nope, not really.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yep.’

‘Alright, just make sure there’s no more gouging.’

‘Doing my best.’

***

Dinner with his dad was not nearly as awkward as Stiles had thought it would be after the discovery of Derek in his room. It wasn’t like it was the first time it had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but no questions had been asked after Stiles declared it a visit about pack business, just as intended. The sheriff knew that it was generally something they would take care of themselves, and he would be informed about later, or immediately, depending on the circumstances.

Stiles had now returned to his room, and was contemplating giving up on his homework in favour of reading the books from Deaton – they might be boring as hell in parts, but he was actually learning things, so he figured it was a less guilty pastime than scrolling endlessly through Facebook. Or Netflix. Or any other illicit activities he liked to indulge in.

That, however, became a decidedly good idea after he found a text on his phone from Derek.

 

**DEREK:** _they’re three days out and intend to come to BH_

‘Shit,’ Stiles muttered. He knew exactly what that meant. Not only were the scouts of the _other_ other pack coming to Beacon Hills, he also didn’t have enough time to learn how to defend himself properly without any magical assistance.

Stiles had been sitting on the fence about this ritual that would unlock his magical potential. He didn’t know what it was, or how difficult it would be, or if he would even _survive_ , but he didn’t want to be left behind from fighting with his pack when they came, and that was what pushed him to make his decision.

He sent a text to Deaton.

 

**STILES:** _how do i do it? the other pack is only a few days away and i'm not going to be the weak link again._

Stiles tossed his phone onto his bed when there was no immediate reply, bouncing his leg agitatedly against the floor.

He couldn’t deal with this, not so soon after the last time. His face crumpled as he shut his eyes tightly and tried to keep a handle on his breathing. He hated feeling like this, and he was going to do whatever it took to make it go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully soonish? most likely after christmas though, so in that case, happy (various) holidays to yall? ~~and wish me luck bc i have to work _christmas eve_ in a fucking _grocery store_.~~


	9. Ch-Ch-Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott nodded slowly, looking like he was considering the implications of injuring his alpha. ‘Interesting.’  
> ‘Before you ask, we’re not going to test it out for science.’  
> ‘You sure?’ Scott asked, still looking into the distance, picturing the serious maiming of his best friend. ‘A bit of light disembowelment wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?’  
> ‘Are you serious?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year, kids! hope yall had a gr8 holiday season and that this new year is good for u all. 
> 
> also yes, i did recently rewatch shrek 2.

Stiles didn’t get much sleep that night, and what little he did get was fitful and marred by dreams of claws raking against his skin, and blood seeping into his sheets. When his dad came in to wake him for school, it must’ve been clear that something was up with Stiles, because the sheriff sighed and left again, telling him to stay in bed and that he’d sort it out.

So that was kind of a bonus. Stiles probably would’ve ditched school anyway, because he had things to do. He tried to sleep a little longer, eventually waking up around ten. He still felt like shit, and that wasn’t improved when he remembered _why_.

He rolled over and flung his arm out for his phone, checking if Deaton had replied yet. His screen was blown up with notifications, so Stiles rubbed his eyes and unlocked his phone, going through them.

 

 **SCOTT:** _where are u?? not at school??_

 **SCOTT:** _ur dad says ur at home are u ok??_

 **SCOTT:** _ok maybe not he says u looked bad so idk text me when u wake up_

**DEREK:** _why is scott texting me in a rush saying you aren’t at school? is everything okay? are you panicking about the other pack? you know i won’t let them do anything to you, Stiles._

 **DEREK:** _text me when you’re awake, i'll come see you._

**DEATON:** _It’s not worth it, Stiles._

Stiles rolled his eyes, beginning by sending texts to Scott and Derek to let them know he was awake, he was okay, and no, he wasn’t at school. Derek could come see him later, and Scott could pick up homework for him, and everything would be back to normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

To Deaton, he sent a different message. Maybe a little rude, in hindsight, but it got the point across.

 

 **STILES:** _you’ve been very helpful, but i'm doing this whether you help me or not. the least you can do is make sure i'm doing it properly to minimize the risk of my death. thank you._

Stiles didn’t expect an immediate reply this time – it was, after all, opening hours at the clinic. Instead of waiting by his phone like a lovesick teenager (which, okay, maybe he was, but he wasn’t in love with _Deaton_ ) Stiles decided to get up, get dressed, and get down some food. He brought one of the books about sigils downstairs with him to read while he ate, hoping he could find something to help him if Deaton refused.

 

 **DEATON:** _Stiles, you haven’t thought this through properly. It’s very dangerous._

 **STILES:** _you’ve mentioned. kinda like hanging out with werewolves on a full moon, right?_

Harsh. Rude. Not winning any favours from him like that. He needed to do this, and Deaton was the one person he could trust to guide him through it safely. He was also the only person, but Stiles liked to think the situation would remain the same if there were any other druids floating about in Beacon Hills.

 

 **STILES:** _please, i'm desperate here. i don’t want to be a weakness to my pack, i want to help protect them and fight with them. i don’t want to have to rely on them to keep me alive._

Better. Stiles put his phone back on the bench, scraping at his scrambled eggs in the pan with a little more force than necessary. This was his choice to make, and he was confident he wouldn’t die from it, no matter how perilous the vet seemed to think it would be to his health.

 

 **DEATON:** _If I help you, Derek never finds out._

Stiles grinned, scooping his food onto a plate, before he sent a short reply back.

 

 **STILES:** _deal._

***

‘Are you sure he can give you a ride home?’ Derek asked, as he pulled up outside Scott’s house. ‘I don’t want to leave you here if you can’t get back.’

‘Nah, it’s fine. If it comes to it, I can always get my dad to swing past while he’s on patrol,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Thank you for this afternoon, I feel much better now.’

‘You do?’ Derek asked. He had picked Stiles up after lunch and taken him to the loft, teaching him a few basic defence moves that weren’t too advanced for Stiles’ current lack of coordination. Derek was still being a little overcautious when it came to strenuous activities, because he didn’t want to be causing more harm than good to Stiles’ scabbed-over chest.

‘Yeah, I could take on an army and they wouldn’t touch me.’

‘That might be an overstatement.’

‘Mm, but it’s not.’

Derek rolled his eyes, leaning over Stiles to open the passenger side door. ‘Get out of my car.’

‘Rude,’ Stiles muttered, unclipping his seat belt. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow.’

Stiles climbed from the car and gave Derek a quick salute to confirm, as he disappeared down Scott’s road.

As Stiles made his way up to the house, he hoped and prayed that Derek didn’t know what was going on inside. With any luck, he hadn’t been able to catch the scents of anyone in the house, because Stiles had told him it would just be him and Scott today, but that was not exactly the case.

‘Scott?’ Stiles called, letting himself into the house.

‘Stiles!’ Scott greeted, bounding around the corner from the kitchen. ‘I got your homework today.’

‘Great, thanks.’

‘So, why did you want us here?’ Scott asked, as he and Stiles walked into the living room, Allison looking up from her phone with a smile.

‘Hey, Stiles,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling? Your dad said you weren’t well?’

‘I didn’t get much sleep, is all,’ Stiles shrugged. ‘The thing is, I need your help.’

‘Just me?’

‘I’ve been talking with Deaton –’

‘Stiles, no,’ Scott groaned.

‘– and he thinks you might be able to do something for me,’ Stiles continued, like nothing had even happened.

‘That sounds a little suspicious,’ Allison frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Your dad has lots of rare herbs and stuff, right?’

‘I guess? If you need herbs, why can’t Deaton help you?’

‘Some of the stuff I need is only available to hunters. He gave me a list, so I was wondering if you would be able to get them all without your dad finding out.’

Allison pursed her lips as she took the piece of paper from Stiles, reading over it briefly. ‘This is some weird stuff, Stiles.’

‘I know.’

‘Why do you need it?’

‘Well,’ Stiles coughed awkwardly. ‘If I tell you, you can’t tell Derek.’

‘Oh my God,’ Scott muttered. ‘You’re doing it.’

‘Doing what?’

‘I’m kind of doing a ritual thing to unleash all my hidden magical talents,’ Stiles said lightly. ‘Like, it could kill me, but it’ll be great.’

‘Magical talents?’ Allison repeated. ‘Do you have _any_ of those?’

‘Uh, yes. Yes, I do. Many, actually. I’m very magical, Allison.’

‘So why can’t we tell Derek?’

‘Because it could kill me?’

‘Oh, right. And he would be pretty mad about that,’ she nodded. ‘Right.’

‘I don’t think “pretty mad” begins to describe it,’ Stiles mused. ‘Anyway, that was all I had to ask, but phones are risky because… y’know. Derek can get his paws on them.’

‘Yeah. I’ll see what I can do,’ Allison said, giving him a hopeful smile. ‘When do you need them by?’

‘Tomorrow night. Needs to be done on a new moon.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

‘Yeah, I’m _dying_ to do it,’ Stiles grinned, ignoring the way Scott was frowning at him. ‘Anyway. Mario Kart?’

***

 **DEATON:** _How do you feel about tattoos?_

 **STILES:** _favorable?_

 **DEATON:** _Great, because you need to get some._

 **STILES:** _uh why_

 **DEATON:** _The sigils become permanent anyway, but it hurts less if they’re already on your skin to begin with._

 **STILES:** _tattoos hurt as well?_

 **DEATON:** _Like I said, it hurts less. Also, you need to have them done by a supernatural being or they’re useless._

 **STILES:** _couldn’t you have mentioned this earlier? it's like 9pm where am i going to find a tattoo gun at this hour? and not only that, but a tattoo gun with a supernatural tattooist to go along with it??_

 **DEATON:** _Not sure. Better start looking._

Stiles rolled his eyes, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. ‘So, your boss is a dick, Scott.’

Scott glanced at him quickly, as he raced around a corner and nudged Allison’s driver into a wall. ‘Why?’

‘Apparently, I have to get some tattoos before tomorrow, and I have to get them done by someone supernatural.’

‘What’s tomorrow?’ Isaac asked, from where he was sitting on the floor. He had turned up about an hour after Stiles to hang out, because it seemed Erica and Boyd had gone off together, leaving him alone.

‘Oh, y’know, the usual things people need tattoos for,’ Stiles shrugged. ‘Unleashing my magical potential, things like that.’

‘I mean, I have a tattoo gun,’ Isaac said softly. ‘And I can use it.’

‘Why do _you_ have a tattoo gun?’ Scott asked.

‘It was my brother’s. I found it in his room after he died, so I watched some YouTube videos on how to sterilise it and stuff, so if you want, I can help you out?’

‘You can’t tell Derek you’re doing it, though,’ Stiles said. ‘He’s the alpha and he sort of suggested I _not_ do this.’

‘So why are you?’

‘Because I can. He’s the alpha, but I’m not a wolf and he doesn’t have some weird claim thing on me. But like, he’ll find out eventually, so you won’t have to keep it secret from him very long, and you can say I coerced you into helping.’

‘But I offered?’ Isaac frowned.

‘Yes, I know that, but _he_ doesn’t.’

‘Okay, well… I guess.’

‘Great,’ Stiles grinned. ‘Shit, my dad is gonna be _so_ pissed.’

***

As it turned out, Isaac was a surprisingly dab hand at tattooing. He was gentle, efficient, and seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, which was comforting, to say the least.

To his obvious disappointment, Deaton had sent Stiles instructions for which sigils he needed, and where to put them, so within the hour, Stiles was hunched over one of Scott’s kitchen chairs, while Isaac tattooed the first of many symbols onto his skin. Very popular in this ritual seemed to be signs for _open_ and _power_ which Stiles thought was a bit literal and unnecessary, seeing as he was opening up his potential powers. Made sense, though, which was comforting.

‘My mom always told me you shouldn’t get tattoos from your friends unless they’re certified professionals,’ Scott said sadly, watching on and wincing slightly at the buzzing of the machine. ‘And now here I am encouraging it.’

‘You’ve been the least encouraging out of everyone in this room,’ Stiles mumbled, taking a long breath in, as Isaac’s needle moved to the thin skin over his shoulder blade.

‘That’s because I can see what a _terrible_ idea this is.’

‘It’s basically my only option, Scott.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘No offence, but can you just let me ruin my own life?’

‘If this thing tomorrow night doesn’t work, then you won’t have a life to ruin, because you’ll be _dead_.’

‘That feels like an overstatement,’ Isaac said, dipping into the ink next to him.

‘Yeah, but it’s not. I could actually die,’ Stiles said lightly. ‘So, like, don’t fuck these up?’

‘I’m _not_. I’m passing art with good grades.’

‘Only _good_ grades?’

‘Shut up.’

***

Stiles had limited sleep again that night, but he supposed it didn’t really matter that much. The tattoos were itching already, and were tender as hell, so no matter how Stiles tried to position himself in his bed, it just wasn’t happening.

He also again stayed home from school, instead preparing everything Deaton had told him he would need. Allison had sent him a text earlier that day saying she had managed to swipe what he had asked for from her dad, so Stiles got to work mixing it in the quantities Deaton had said.

When it got darker, Stiles made his way out to the preserve, thanking the universe for his dad being on night shift, so he wouldn’t ask questions as Stiles left the house. He met up with Scott outside the old Hale house, and together they walked quickly out to a spot Deaton suggested for the… ritual.

Deaton was already there, setting up a few other things, and nodded grimly as Stiles and Scott arrived. ‘You don’t have to do this, you know,’ he said, as Stiles started getting everything out of his backpack, putting things down where Deaton instructed.

‘I think it’s a bit too late to back out,’ Stiles said, dumping the empty bag on the ground and stepping into the circle of white chalk dust. He had read up on this ritual in one of Deaton’s books, so he knew how it was meant to go.

‘It’s not too late. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. I can teach you to improve on your magic gradually.’

‘Gradually isn’t going to keep me from dying.’

‘This could _kill_ you, Stiles.’

Stiles let out a level breath and sat down cross-legged in the bracken. ‘Yeah, well. Something’s gotta.’

‘Did you want to send any final messages before we begin?’ Deaton asked, taking a small bundle of sage and holding it to the end of an unlit lighter. ‘Anything to Derek or your father?’

Stiles shook his head. ‘No, because I’m going to survive this, so anything I have to say I’ll do in person.’

‘Okay then,’ Deaton said, lighting the bundle and beginning to walk around the outside of the circle Stiles was in, chanting quietly. With each new loop, he switched out his bundle of herbs for a different one.

Somewhere around the third time, Stiles’ head started hurting, but he was intent on making it through, so he did his best to ignore it, shutting his eyes tightly and concentrating on Deaton’s words. He didn’t understand what he was saying, as such, but whatever it was felt like it was designed specifically to increase Stiles’ headache tenfold.

He hadn’t expected this much pain, because the books didn’t say anything about it, but it didn’t last long.

Barely five minutes into the ritual, Stiles’ vision started getting blurry, as his entire body began to ache. Deaton’s chanting was the last thing Stiles registered before he blacked out, slumping into the forest floor.

***

Something was going on.

Derek didn’t know what, and he doubted he would be let in on whatever it was, but when Stiles had been telling him about his plans for the previous night, his heart had sped up a little. He was lying, and Derek didn’t know why. He hadn’t wanted to call Stiles out on it, because if there was one thing his mother had taught him, it was that soulmates – or _mates_ , in general – trusted each other.

And Derek trusted Stiles. He trusted that he would let Derek know what was important, and that if for whatever reason he couldn’t straight away, that he would get there. Derek didn’t say anything about being able to smell Allison in Scott’s house, because she was always there, so maybe Stiles just didn’t include her in his night with Scott as something that needed to be mentioned. When he’d left the car, Stiles’ scent was tinged with the sour smell of deception, so Derek was… concerned.

But whatever. Stiles would tell him what was going on, and Derek didn’t need to snoop. At all. He didn’t.

So, he stayed at home and read, but did break as he was getting ready for bed and sent Stiles an innocent enough text.

 

 **DEREK:** _how was your night? i hope gaming with scott helped take your mind off things._

Derek didn’t get a text back straight away, which wasn’t strange. It was definitely possible that he was still just really involved in his game or something. Maybe he was already home and asleep.

Derek didn’t worry.

He probably should’ve.

He didn’t hear back from Stiles that night or the next day, even though the scouts would be arriving sometime in the next 48 hours. When he finally _did_ get a text back, it was nearly 36 hours later and two in the morning – which only served to increase his suspicion that something was up.

 

 **STILES:** _im defintnly ok no probles a al im fine : )_

 **DEREK:** _you’re not drinking are you?_

 **STILES:** _me??????? frinkign?/??/_

 **STILES:** _this is scott – stiles is fine, don’t worry. we're taking care of it._

 **DEREK:** _what exactly does that mean?_

 **STILES:** _that means he’s fine and you shouldn’t worry omg_

Despite Scott’s best intentions, that absolutely did not help in any way, shape, or form. To make matters even worse, Derek’s attention was taken away from the dubious wellbeing of his soulmate, by a text from Erica. She, Isaac, and Boyd were out running a patrol, and anything she had to say was certain to be bad news.

 

 **ERICA:** _they’re here._

Which, y’know, great.

However, after talking with the trio the next day, it turned out that all they had found was a few scent trails of other wolves, not the wolves themselves. This helped a little to calm Derek’s nerves about the whole situation, but it was a small worry compared to whatever the fuck was going on with Stiles. For someone who never stopped talking, he had been severely uncommunicative with Derek the last couple of days.

In any case, Scott had taken it upon himself to reiterate to Derek multiple times a day that Stiles was fine, and with Scott being his best friend, Derek was mostly okay with believing him.

Still, when Derek called a pack meeting, he got a confirmation text from Stiles, himself – _i'm there_ , which was the first he’d heard from him in days. Derek just didn’t know what to expect from him when he showed up. Why had Stiles suddenly vanished like that? Had Derek done something? Was Stiles having second thoughts about them in some way? Whatever way they were?

That was what ate at his brain the most, from the moment he got back those two little words: what was going on with Stiles?

***

Something was _definitely_ off.

For one, Stiles looked like shit when he arrived, haggard and pale with dark circles under his eyes. Secondly, he was moving like everything caused him pain. He sat gently on the edge of the couch, instead of slumped into it like he was part of the upholstery, trying his best not to touch too much. And lastly, he was wearing an _overwhelming_ amount of cologne.

‘Are you okay?’ Derek asked, while they waited for the others to arrive, because while he might not have heard from Stiles the last few days, he was acting like they were on good terms so Derek had decided to run with it.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Stiles said faintly, before he cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. ‘Absolutely great. Why?’

‘Are _we_ okay?’

‘Why wouldn’t we be?’ Stiles asked, frowning.

‘You haven’t…’ Derek felt a frown build on his own face. Maybe he had read this situation wrong. ‘You haven’t been talking to me.’

‘Yeah, sorry. Just got… busy.’

 _Of course._ ‘Right.’

‘It wasn’t you, and I’m sorry if I worried you,’ Stiles said, offering a small smile. ‘I still dig you, don’t worry.’

‘That’s comforting.’ Derek wrinkled his nose as Stiles shifted on the couch, sending a fresh wave of fragrance into the air. ‘Why are you wearing so much cologne?’

‘I always wear this much cologne.’

‘That’s a lie.’

Stiles blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and ducking his head to hide a wince from Derek. ‘I might’ve gone a little overboard.’

‘Do you want to go upstairs and wash it off before the rest of the pack gets here?’

‘No, this shit was expensive, so you’re all just gonna have to suffer with me,’ Stiles said indignantly.

Derek was about to protest some more, when the front door to his loft slid open, revealing the rest of the pack. The wolves immediately scrunched their faces, as they zoned in on the culprit.

‘Jesus, Stiles,’ Erica said, stepping it and waving her hand around, as if trying to disperse the smell. ‘What did you do? Spill an entire bottle of that on yourself?’

‘No, only about half.’

As the everyone else trailed in, Stiles seemed to shift closer to the end of the couch, shying away from his friends, which was definitely not like him. He even refrained from the customary group snuggle, as Isaac put a DVD on later.

Derek watched him throughout the pack meeting, trying to puzzle out every little movement he made, noting what he was and wasn’t doing, how measured it all was. Derek had a suspicion. He just hoped he was wrong.

***

 **STILES:** _do u think he noticed???_

 **SCOTT:** _noticed what?? the bottle of shitty cologne u LITERALLY drowned ur sins in???_

 **STILES:** _yeah that_

 **SCOTT:** _no it was very subtle_

 **STILES:** _ur sayin that bc now ur all immune to the smell right_

 **SCOTT:** _if someone took a dump next to my face while i was sleeping idk if i would notice tbh_

 **STILES:** _cool so that means he also can’t smell it or whatever u said had happened to my ~scent~ yeah?_

 **SCOTT:** _yeah like probably not i mean he’s been a wolf longer than me so?? maybe he has superpowers idk dude_

 **STILES:** _he hasn’t said anything to me yet so maybe he didn’t??? *fingers crossed*_

 **SCOTT:** _tbh u probably should’ve been a bit more…. touchy feely w the rest of the pack like usual_

 **STILES:** _scott u remember i had needles stabbed repeatedly into my body right? and then i did a magic spell on myself and was in so much pain i legit think i saw god??? u remember??_

 **STILES:** _like idk but im still a bit sore so maybe being crushed by people w literal super strength sounded like a bad idea to me?????_

 **SCOTT:** _baby._

 **STILES:** _ya ok next time we’ll have u do it and unleash ur inner wolf a bit mmmmkay?_

 **SCOTT:** _*eye roll* ok buddy_

 **STILES:** _i hate u._

 **SCOTT:** _ok. see u tmrw morning for that jog?_

 **STILES:** _no i hate u_

 **SCOTT:** _ok so pick me up at like ten?_

 **STILES:** _yeah_

 **SCOTT:** _cool *blows kisses*_

***

Stiles was bleary eyed as he and Scott rolled up to the preserve for their run. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to this, but Deaton had said exercise was good or something, so he was pretending he cared by following the instructions set forth by the vet for how not to die after the magic boosting ritual. Or whatever. It was too early in the morning for this bullshit.

He must’ve said that last bit out loud, because Scott huffed and said, ‘It’s like half past ten.’

‘Too early,’ Stiles repeated, resting his forehead on the steering wheel of his car. ‘Can I just stay here while you go run?’

‘No. Deaton said you needing to keep your blood pumping, and exercise is a good way to get your heart rate up.’

‘That’s just shit, isn’t it? I have to _run_ in order to stay alive. It’s a blatant misuse of power, Scott.’

‘Okay, but the sooner you get out of the car and stop complaining, the sooner it’ll be over.’

‘You and Derek always have to follow the rules,’ Stiles muttered darkly, forcing himself out his car.

‘Me and Derek never follow rules.’

‘Hey, Scott, notice how I don’t own your werewolfy ass? That’s because Derek’s following the rules.’

Scott frowned, meeting Stiles over the chain link fence and starting to walk into the preserve. ‘What?’

‘I’m not a ceremonial alpha yet, because Derek and I haven’t f–’

‘Oh no. No, no, no. We’re not going there,’ Scott said loudly. ‘I don’t want to hear it!’

‘There’s nothing to _hear_ , Scott, that’s exactly my point!’ Stiles cried. ‘And if I’m not allowed to talk about what we’re _not_ doing, then you can’t talk about what you and Allison _are_ doing.’

‘What Allison and I are going is _magical_.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m sure Derek’s –’

‘Stiles!’ Scott interrupted. ‘I don’t want to be thinking about you and Derek doing naked things!’

‘Well damn, Scott, I don’t either! Do you know how complicated it makes things?’

‘Oh my God,’ Scott groaned. ‘We’re not even going there.’

‘Neither are me and Derek! That’s – _shit_ ,’ Stiles hissed, stopping and leaning against a tree. ‘Oh, perfect,’ he said, watching blood bead up on his shin. ‘What did I stab myself on?’

‘A branch,’ Scott said, stooping down to get a better look at it. ‘I guess it’s good to know that being super magical now hasn’t made you immune to stupid things like this.’

‘You’re a _werewolf_ and you still do it, so apparently we’re both just shitty supernatural beings.’

‘It’s why we’re friends,’ Scott nodded solemnly. ‘Wanna run or go back to the car and clean that?’

‘Nah,’ Stiles said, rubbing his hands together. After a few moments, he placed one hand over the cut and exhaled slowly, picturing a small tendril of magic pushing from his palm. His eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated, picturing the blood receding, and the skin closing itself, clean and tidy.

‘Dude,’ Scott whispered in awe, after Stiles took his hand away, wiping the blood off on his shorts. ‘You healed yourself?’

‘Yeah, that’s a thing I’ve been, uh… practising. Kinda. I mean, I read how to do it.’

‘I could _smell_ your magic, Stiles.’

‘Didn’t you say it changed my scent or something?’ Stiles asked, rubbing the spot on his leg, a little weirded out that he actually did it first try.

‘It did,’ Scott nodded. ‘Like… the smell before a storm. This was the storm _hitting_.’

‘That sounds cool,’ Stiles mused.

‘Oh, dude, it is. Might just take some getting used to, is all.’

Stiles hummed and stood up again, brushing off the dirt that was sticking to his knee. ‘Derek’s gonna kill me when he finds out, isn’t he?’

‘Oh, yeah, definitely.’

‘Cool. Better start running now so that I’ve had practice when he tries.’

‘Yep, good plan,’ Scott grinned, jerking his head towards one of the paths and setting an easy pace that Stiles could keep up with.

They jogged on in silence, except for the noises of the woods around them, and the occasional yell from Stiles when Scott got too far ahead. They were heading deeper into the trees now, and more off the beaten path. The last thing Stiles wanted was to be out here alone, especially now they were on the lookout for those other wolves.

Almost half an hour of jogging saw Stiles getting a little puffed, and he called Scott back, so he could take a break. Scott, the traitor, returned from behind some trees, whistling a happy little tune. Show off. Stiles briefly missed the time when Scott had asthma, because he hadn’t been such a cocky little shit back then. (That being said, Stiles’ life was also pretty damn boring.)

Scott raised an eyebrow when he saw Stiles hunched over, taking deep breaths to get some oxygen back in his brain. ‘So, this is going good, I think.’

‘I hate you and this planet and everyone on it,’ Stiles wheezed.

‘You’re so dramatic,’ Scott said, plopping onto the dirt and stretching his legs out in front of himself. ‘How’s the cut? Still… better?’

‘If you’re asking if I only managed to temporarily fix it, the answer is currently no. No blood pouring out my leg, sorry.’

‘I think it’s cool. Oh, hey, does this mean that you might _not_ die from Derek getting a serious injury?’

‘Uh…’ Stiles frowned. ‘Not sure. I guess it depends if I have enough time or energy or whatever to fix it on myself?’

Scott nodded slowly, looking like he was considering the implications of injuring his alpha. ‘Interesting.’

‘Before you ask, we’re not going to test it out for science.’

‘You sure?’ Scott asked, still looking into the distance, picturing the serious maiming of his best friend. ‘A bit of light disembowelment wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?’

‘Are you serious?’

Scott was spared having to answer that by doing the human equivalent of perking up his ears, which was kind of just… looking around. With a purpose. Stiles frowned as he tried to figure out exactly what he was looking at. Without warning, Scott shot up from the ground, standing in front of Stiles protectively as he glared into the forest beyond them.

‘What are you doing?’ Stiles whispered.

‘Shut up,’ Scott said lowly. ‘They’re here.’

‘Oh my God,’ Stiles muttered, his heart rate already picking up. ‘Here? Now?’

‘Yes. If you have your phone, text Derek. I’m going to try not to let this turn into a fight.’

***

Eleven on a Saturday morning meant that Derek was using some of his rare alone time to get groceries. Sometimes part of the pack accompanied him, and when they did, he always found himself buying twice the amount of food that he needed.

The girl at the register was nice, friendly even, if a little flirty, but that wasn’t anything Derek wasn’t used to. He was still having a nice, quiet day so far. Maybe later he’d see if Stiles wanted to hang out, see if he could wheedle the truth about the last few days from him.

As he was packing the last of his bags into the boot of his car, he felt his phone go off. Something told him it was Stiles, and he hoped that maybe _he_ was going to initiate them hanging out.

When he checked his phone, he found he was right about the sender, which made him happy. Lesser so, was the message.

 

 **STILES:** _SCOUTS HERE PRESERVE NOW_

Derek let out a short groan as he wheeled his trolley into the bushes by his parking space, hating himself for not returning it to the bay, and tore out of the lot, speeding to the preserve.

It was stupid, but all he could think about was how he had ice cream in the back of his car, and he hoped it wouldn’t melt completely. He could handle a bunch of beta wolves coming to scout out how easy he would be to kill, but he was not emotionally prepared to throw out an entire tub of ice cream.

He found Stiles’ car in the parking lot of the preserve less than ten minutes later. Not soon after, he had picked up their trail and was following it deep into the trees. Something was wrong with Stiles’ scent, but Derek tried to focus on finding them faster, instead of worrying about something that was probably completely mundane.

He had sent a group text to the rest of the pack, making sure they were on alert and hovering about the preserve, should they be needed. He knew they would find him and stay hidden unless it looked like things were going south, but he really hoped that wasn’t the case. It would absolutely ruin his mood.

He heard Stiles and Scott before he saw them, angrily muttering about manners, before he burst from the bushes and stalked in front of them both.

Scott had his claws out, and Stiles had his fists balled, like he was going to challenge the other wolves to fisticuffs at dawn or something. Not promising, but then again, they were being tame, compared to the other three wolves, who were completely shifted, fangs everywhere, and eyes glowing.

Derek glanced quickly back to Scott and Stiles, checking them over for injuries. He could smell blood somewhere, but couldn’t find the source, so he turned back to the newcomers – two males and a female. ‘What do you want?’ Derek asked, keeping a little more of a hand on himself than any of the other werewolves present, and staying entirely unshifted.

‘Smooth,’ Stiles muttered. ‘Such a way with words.’

Derek ignored him, staring down the three wolves in front of him, waiting for an answer.

‘Are you the alpha here?’ one of the men asked. He was almost a carbon copy of Boyd, the only exceptions being the dreadlocks tied back away from his face, and the ridiculously tiny soul patch.

‘I am Derek Hale, alpha of Beacon Hills. Who are you?’

The three wolves exchanged a look, silently shifting back to their human faces. ‘Jonah. This is Carl and Veronica. We’ve been looking for you.’

‘Why?’

‘We’re here to deliver a message from our alpha. He wants to meet you.’

Derek narrowed his eyes and repeated the question. ‘Why?’

Jonah shrugged. ‘We’re just the messengers. We don’t know anything except what we were told.’

‘Would this be a friendly meeting?’ Stiles asked from behind Derek. ‘Or does he intend to kill us and claim Beacon Hills?’

Jonah raised an eyebrow and gave an amused laugh. ‘You’re not a wolf, it’s hardly your place to be concerned with politics.’

‘This is my home,’ Stiles said through gritted teeth. ‘My pack. I want to know what he intends to do.’

‘You should get better control of your human,’ the other male, Carl, said softly, as he stepped forward and peered at Stiles down the end of his beak-like nose. ‘He’d make a good wolf, with a fire like that.’

Stiles growled, and while Derek didn’t look behind him, he knew Stiles must’ve done something else, too, because the three other wolves took a step backwards, surprise colouring their features.

‘We should be going,’ Jonah said quickly, ‘but will you meet our alpha?’

‘If he passes, as alpha of this territory, I will meet him.’

‘Two weeks,’ Jonah nodded, before he and his companions turned tail and ran back through the trees.

Scott, Stiles, and Derek waited until they were sure the others had left before they moved, relaxing their stances and looking to each other.

‘Fuck,’ Stiles said, breaking the silence. ‘Don’t know about you, but I hated every moment of that. Not a single good thing to come out of it.’

‘They didn’t attack us at all,’ Scott pointed out. ‘That’s good.’

‘Yeah, but their alpha, and probably the rest of their pack, will be here in two weeks. That’s not.’

‘A problem for later,’ Derek said dismissively, coming over to stand in front of Stiles, half wanting to reach out and touch him, half not sure if he should. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, totally fine.’

Derek frowned, throwing caution to the wind and running his hands down Stiles’ arms to reassure himself. ‘Are you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why do I smell blood, then?’

‘Oh…’ Stiles gave a sheepish grin and pointed to his shin. ‘I healed myself.’

‘You what?’

‘Healed myself.’

‘What do – healed? How?’

Stiles winked and waved his fingers. ‘Magic.’

‘Stiles, you’re not strong enough to do that.’

‘Apparently he is,’ Scott piped up. ‘But it wasn’t even a big cut, so it probably didn’t take much effort.’

‘Still,’ Derek sighed. ‘You shouldn’t do things like that just because you _can_ now.’

‘Okay, _Dad_ ,’ Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll just let myself bleed next time. But for now, I am fine. Stop worrying.’

‘Stiles, I – look, I’m going to worry. We should be moving in case those wolves come back to fight.’

‘We?’

‘Yes. I’m not letting you run through the preserve with just Scott for protection.’

‘I don’t need protection. We’re going to carry on, and you can go home, okay? I’ll come see you later and we can hang out.’

Derek narrowed his eyes, wanting to argue the point, but from the way Stiles had raised his eyebrows expectantly, he could tell it was a fight he was going to lose. ‘Fine. Text me when you leave. We can talk about this later.’

‘We don’t need to talk about it later,’ Stiles said slowly, and Derek felt himself beginning to relax and agree – why was he making a big deal out of this? ‘Go home. Put your ice cream away, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Derek nodded, sniffing and looking to the sky. ‘Make your run fast, it smells like a storm is coming in.’

‘Yeah, we will,’ Stiles smiled, walking backwards to the trees as he waited for Scott to join him and continue on their way. ‘I’ll see you this afternoon.’

Later, when Derek returned home, taking his groceries from the car and discovering his ice cream to only be melted on the edges of the container, he remembered something. Something Stiles had said. _Put your ice cream away._ It was a stupid thing to annoy Derek, but as he made room for it behind a bag of frozen peas, he realised what it was.

Derek had never mentioned the ice cream to Stiles.

***

‘We don’t know what he wants,’ Derek said pacing in front of the couch, where Stiles had spread himself out over the length.

‘We have two weeks to figure it out,’ Stiles said, shrugging as much as he could from his slouched position. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll deal with it.’

‘Yes, I know we will. How are you calm about this, now? Isn’t it your MO to be freaking out about other wolves, not mine?’

‘I’m just really chill today. Those three betas weren’t scary.’

‘No, they were scared of _you_ ,’ Derek said, as the scene flashed before his eyes – Stiles growling (so very hot) and then the others backing off after his response to being called a good candidate for the bite. ‘What did you do?’

Stiles’ heart picked up slightly, and Derek thought he would’ve been able to smell deception or something in his scent, if it wasn’t for the ridiculous amount of cologne Stiles was wearing again. ‘I channelled my inner you.’

‘Your inner me,’ Derek repeated flatly.

‘Yes, not that I have any of you in –’

‘Stiles.’

‘Sorry, had to be done,’ Stiles grinned. ‘No, I just… Yeah. Pretended I was you. Got carried away, maybe.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘Three werewolves being scared of a growling human is just… strange, is all.’

‘Well –’

‘Anything you want to share?’

Stiles blinked, shaking his head slowly. ‘Nope, no, all good here.’

‘Hmm.’

***

 **STILES:** _don’t know if he’s buying it_

 **SCOTT:** _buying what? ur “i did NOTHING” act?_

 **STILES:** _yeah_

 **SCOTT:** _well i mean he’s not stupid_

 **STILES:** _i was hoping for like at least a week to prepare myself for this conversation_

 **SCOTT:** _should u maybe like… announce urself to the pack as emissary sooner rather than later? that way he won’t shred ur ass entirely??_

 **STILES:** _idk tbh like idek if that will stop him?_

 **SCOTT:** _one way to find out i guess_

 **STILES:** _okay but if i die……._

 **SCOTT:** _u won’t but go on_

 **STILES: ……….** _can u make sure my funeral is shrek 2 themed_

 **STILES:** _i want fairy godmother’s rendition of “holding out for a hero” playing as i'm lowered into the ground_

 **SCOTT:** _ok sure anything else like u want to be dressed as charming or human shrek??_

 **STILES:** _once again gonna go w fairy gma on this one bc that red dress?? dude_

 **SCOTT:** _ok cool i can do that_

 **STILES:** _thank u don’t let me down_

 **SCOTT:** _only into ur grave i promise :)_


	10. Snakes in a Peanut Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’re stubborn as hell. Even if the reaper had come for you, I think you probably could’ve scared it off with a look because you wouldn’t want to go.’  
> ‘Yeah,’ Stiles huffed, warm against Derek’s skin. ‘Can’t save your ass if mine is in the ground, huh?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 3am im not being held accountable for whatever the fuck im naming chapters now. we're lucky i even edited this bc otherwise my legacy would include the error "...shove duck under his chin."

A few days later, and Derek was suspicious. Very, _very_ suspicious. Stiles was back to his usual self, except the exorbitant amount of cologne he was still wearing, and he seemed utterly unperturbed about the rival alpha making his way to meet them – Stiles wasn’t even making much of an effort to get involved in the group combat exercises, which had been _his_ idea in the first place.

With the pack was making their way out of Derek’s loft to head home after their last training session, where Stiles had spent the hour sitting on the couch reading a book instead, Derek decided to get to the bottom of it.

‘Why aren’t you trying to kick our asses in hand to hand?’ Derek asked, standing in front of the couch, hands on his hips, like his mother used to do when he was five years old, and in trouble for breaking the antique vase by the stairs. ‘You’ve been saying you could beat an army, but you’re not even trying with us.’

Stiles looked up and around the room in surprise, like he hadn’t even noticed the others leaving. ‘Yeah,’ he said slowly. ‘Just, uh… taking it easy on the old war wounds.’

Derek raised an eyebrow. He’d heard the skip in Stiles’ heartbeat. ‘Oh really?’

‘Yeah, they’re just feeling a little tight as they heal.’

Another lie. From the corner of his eye, Derek saw Scott glance their way from where he and Allison were getting their backpacks. Scott saw him looking and shrugged – the universal gesture for _I don’t know_. He’d heard the lies as well, but Derek would’ve been very surprised if Scott didn’t know what it was.

However, Derek’s issue right now wasn’t with Scott. He thought that he and Stiles were past this, so he waited until Scott had gone, leaving just the two of them alone.

‘Okay,’ Derek sat on the table in front of Stiles, clasping his hands loosely between his knees as he leaned forwards. ‘You wanna try that again?’

‘Try what?’

‘What’s going on, Stiles?’

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on,’ Stiles offered him a weak smile. ‘All quiet. Except the, uh, y’know. Alpha issue.’

‘Hmm, thing is,’ Derek tapped his ear, ‘I can hear you lying to me.’

‘I’m not –’

‘Dammit, Stiles!’ Derek said, cutting him off.

For a moment, Stiles was frozen, leaning away and into the corner of the couch, his eyes wide with fear. _Fuck_ , Derek had never wanted to do that to him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Derek said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to know what’s going on.’

It took a few moments of wary and calculating staring from Stiles before he said, ‘No, you don’t.’

‘Don’t what?’

‘Want to know.’

‘Yes, I do. I don’t want us keeping things from each other. Trust is important between soulmates, and I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me.’

‘You don’t want me to tell you this,’ Stiles whispered, toying with the pages of his book, before he shut it and put it down beside him on the couch. ‘I already know that. Isn’t it better to keep things if it’ll hurt each other?’

‘No, because we’re stronger when we work together. You can tell me, it’s okay.’

Stiles looked up, shaking his head. ‘You won’t be happy.’

‘I promise I won’t be mad, either.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

Stiles sighed, moving his gaze back down to his hands, as he picked idly at the skin by his thumb. ‘The other day in the preserve with the scouts, I did something to scare them.  Something I _knew_ would scare them.’

‘You said you channelled your inner me,’ Derek said with a smile. ‘It was a pretty good growl.’

‘I did something else as well.’ Stiles stopped picking and clenched his hands into fists, taking a deep breath, before he looked up at Derek. ‘This.’

Derek’s heart dropped, as he sat up straight in a fit of shock. Stiles was still watching him to see how he’d react, with those red, glowing eyes. The eyes of an alpha. With a single blink, they were gone, leaving only Stiles’ usual whiskey eyes.

‘How did you do that?’ Derek asked carefully. ‘You didn’t…’

‘I didn’t get the bite. I got something else.’

Stiles stood up and pulled off his shirt and hoodie, and just like that, the suspicion festering in a dark corner of Derek’s mind was confirmed. Over Stiles’ shoulders, down his spine, his inner arms, and dotted over his torso, there were sigils of magic inked black into his pale skin.

‘Jesus, Stiles,’ Derek whispered, standing and hovering his hands just above the surface of the tattoos. ‘What did you do?’

‘Exactly what you told me not to.’

‘You did the ritual, didn’t you?’

‘Hypothetically, how mad would you be if I said yes?’

‘Considering it could’ve killed you, less mad than I would’ve been if you hadn’t survived.’

‘Well then, yes. I might’ve done the ritual,’ Stiles said, yanking his top back on. ‘They’re still healing, which is why I’m sort of avoiding contact.’

Derek sighed, ignoring the part of himself that wanted to let loose the rage at how reckless Stiles had been with this, but instead, slipped his hand onto the back of Stiles’ neck to draw at the lingering pain from… everything. ‘You should’ve told me, Stiles.’

‘I didn’t want to worry you. I knew you would’ve tried to talk me out of it,’ Stiles mumbled, pushing back a little against Derek’s hand. ‘I know it was stupid, but I had to do something. I didn’t want to have to rely on the pack if the scouts had been violent – if their alpha _will_ be violent. I can help.’

‘Stiles, you don’t need to help.’

‘No, I do. We’re partners, right? We have each other’s backs, and this is me having yours. I didn’t die, I’m stronger for it, and now we can face anything. Okay?’

Derek softened a little more, as he looked down at this boy, so earnest, who risked everything so that he could help, so he could protect, defend, fight. It had been a while since Derek had felt this, and had someone who would be willing to risk their life for his. Derek loved his betas, but deep down he knew they were just teenagers who had taken a shot to improve their own quality of life. Scott and Jackson had only begrudgingly accepted him as their alpha, after it became clear they could get something from him – whether that be a mentor, or the backing of a pack.

Stiles, maybe, had done the ritual for his own purposes. Derek knew he was afraid of what could happen if he was faced with a strange pack again, he knew the things that took hold of Stiles’ mind when he slept. It might’ve been selfish initially, but Stiles would also use his gift, his spark, to protect the pack, now. To help. To have Derek’s back. Like _pack_.

Derek smiled, moving his hand to Stiles’ cheek, brushing his thumb over the light blush spreading there. ‘Okay,’ he murmured. ‘I’m glad you didn’t die.’

Stiles nodded, wrapping his arms around Derek and pressing his face to his neck. ‘I was so scared,’ he said, his voice muffled slightly. ‘I didn’t say anything to Scott or Dea – _Derek_ , you, I didn’t say anything to you, Derek, because I didn’t want to be talked out of it. The whole time I was prepping things for it, my brain was screaming, _“What if you aren’t strong enough? What if you die?”_ and I was terrified that I might never get to do so many things, or that _we_ might never get to…’

‘It’s okay, Stiles,’ Derek said, running the fingers of one hand through Stiles’ hair, wrapping the other arm around him like a barrier from the world. ‘You’re stubborn as hell. Even if the reaper had come for you, I think you probably could’ve scared it off with a look because you wouldn’t want to go.’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles huffed, warm against Derek’s skin. ‘Can’t save your ass if mine is in the ground, huh?’

‘Exactly,’ Derek pressed his lips to the stop of Stiles’ head. ‘But seriously, no more keeping things from each other.’

‘Nope, no more,’ Stiles agreed, shifting a little in Derek’s arms. ‘What about the pack, though?’

‘Yeah,’ Derek sighed. ‘Should probably tell them about the emissary thing.’

‘Next time?’

‘Next time.’

***

It seemed like they had turned a corner in their relationship, now. Stiles’ seventeenth was only a few days away, and he had already decided that with the imminent arrival of the other alpha, he would have a lowkey celebration with just his friends, despite what they would inevitably try to plan without him.

It was barely past midnight when their texts started coming in, all wishing him a happy birthday and good wishes for the next year, hoping there were less dramatic supernatural events in it. Stiles was in the process of an attractive snorting noise when he noticed he wasn’t alone in his room.

He swallowed the rest of the noise, spiralling into a coughing fit as he launched his computer chair halfway across the room. ‘Derek,’ Stiles croaked, as the man in question shut the window gently behind himself. ‘What the fuck? We’ve talked about you not sneaking into my room without warning!’

‘No, we haven’t?’ Derek said in confusion.

‘Okay, no, maybe we haven’t, but we should!’

‘Why? It’s your birthday and I wanted to surprise you.’

‘Consider me surprised!’ Stiles said, recovering enough to clutch at his throat. ‘I think I just lost like, thirty years off my life.’

‘Well, allow me to apologise,’ Derek smiled, bringing a small box out of his jacket pocket and presenting it to Stiles. ‘Happy birthday.’

Stiles blinked, looking up at Derek. ‘You got me a present?’

‘Yes?’ Derek plopped down on Stiles’ bed, still holding the little box out to him. ‘Are you going to open it?’

Stiles slid the chair over to in front of Derek, taking the box slowly, and studying the matte black wrapping paper with suspicion. ‘I guess I’ll have to,’ Stiles said, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and ripping it up. ‘It’s not a prank or anything, is it?’

‘No, of course not. Why would you think that?’

‘For my birthday when I was younger, Scott got me like, a bucket of cookies?’ Stiles frowned, taking his time to undo the rest of the tape on the box. ‘But he’d somehow managed to get those snakes in a peanut can into the bucket instead, so I almost died because I got hit in the face with like, twenty of the stupid things, and there weren’t even any crumbs at the bottom to make it worth it.’

‘Wow.’

‘It was traumatising.’

‘I bet, but there are no peanut can snakes in there.’

‘Hmm. I trust you.’ Stiles pulled off the remaining paper and raised an eyebrow at the logo of the boutique jewellery store downtown. ‘It’s not a ring, is it? I’m only seventeen, I don’t think I’m ready for marriage, Der.’

Derek rolled his eyes, but laughed quietly nonetheless. ‘No, it’s not a ring. In my family, it’s kind of a custom to get our mate or soulmate a, uh… gesture of intent, kind of. Something personal.’

Stiles cracked the top of the box open and smiled when he saw what was in it. ‘I’m not really one for necklaces,’ he murmured, pulling the chain out of the box, and letting the pendant hang free. ‘Guess I should make an exception.’

‘I figured asking you to get a matching tattoo might be a bit much.’

Stiles raised an eyebrow as he slipped the chain over his head. ‘You know we have soul marks, right? The ultimate matching tattoo?’

‘Yeah, well. I have the triskelion on my back, so I thought maybe it would be a bit subtler if you had it on something easier to hide.’

‘Why would I hide it?’

‘I told the pack about gestures of intent a few months ago, so they’d know what it is, and we’d be screwed,’ Derek sighed. ‘But I wanted you to have it, because it’s…’

‘Personal.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I love it,’ Stiles smiled, ‘so thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Does this mean I have to get a gesture of intent for you?’

Derek shrugged. ‘No, but I’d be interested to see what you come up with.’

‘Challenge accepted,’ Stiles said, rubbing the pendant idly. He hadn’t been expecting anything from Derek, because there had been absolutely zero sign that he was going to get him a gift. It was a nice thought, even if it had been delivered with some of the worst timing – Stiles might never recover from the shock, even if it wasn’t the first time Derek had randomly appeared in his room with no warning.

‘Stiles?’ Derek said, interrupting Stiles’ thought process. From the look on his face, Derek had probably been trying to break through to him for a while. ‘You in there?’

Stiles let a sheepish grin spread slowly over his face. ‘Yeah, sorry, what?’

‘There was something I wanted to ask you.’

‘Oh. Shoot.’

Derek studied him for a few moments, pulling Stiles forward on his chair and looking into his eyes. ‘How did you do it?’

‘Do what?’ Stiles asked, trying not to sound too breathless from the unexpected proximity to Derek.

‘The eyes. To scare those scouts.’

‘Oh,’ Stiles blinked, his eyes appearing red when they opened. ‘This?’

‘Yeah,’ Derek leaned closer, brushing his thumb under Stiles’ eye. ‘Why red?’

‘Are they red?’ Stiles asked in surprise, touching his own cheek. ‘Really?’

‘Didn’t you know?’

‘I…’ Stiles frowned. ‘I didn’t know they’d be red. I read something in one of Deaton’s books about being able to mirror a wolf’s eyes, so I was aiming for yellow, but I guess maybe because of our connection they sort of… mirrored _your_ eyes.’

‘Makes sense.’

‘Have I fucked everything up? Making them think there’s two alphas in Beacon Hills?’ Stiles asked, his voice small. God, he was going through all the emotions today, and it wasn’t even one in the morning.

‘No, I don’t think so. They might just think they imagined it, because you smell so clearly human,’ Derek said with a shrug.

‘Okay, but what if they didn’t pick up on that?’

‘If they think there are two alphas in Beacon Hills, then maybe they’ll be reluctant to try and take over this territory. Maybe you’ll have done us a favour, even if you didn’t intend to.’

‘I hope so. I would hate to put the rest of you in danger because of a moment of stupidity on my part. Again.’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ Derek said, doing his best to sound comforting, but failing, even to his own ears. He knew that what he was saying was unlikely, because he had never known an alpha to give up on a territory they wanted. Werewolves who sent scouts were pretty much just getting an idea of where would be the best place to build a summer house.

‘Derek, I worry. Constantly. It is my constant state to worry,’ Stiles groaned, thumping his head against Derek’s shoulder. ‘It’s a waste of time telling me not to worry.’

‘I know,’ Derek sighed, bringing a hand up to rub the back of Stiles’ neck gently. ‘Me too. Though I mostly worry about you.’

‘I’m flattered.’

‘I bet you are,’ Derek muttered. He turned his head to kiss Stiles’ temple, then pushed the boy off him. ‘Come on, you should go to bed.’

‘You gonna tuck me in?’ Stiles asked, getting off his chair and kicking it back before he climbed into the bed, under the sheets Derek was holding up for him.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Not really, no.’

‘Okay,’ Derek said, dropping the covers and heading to the window to leave. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Derek, wait,’ Stiles said, as Derek sat on the windowsill, ready to throw himself out. ‘Stay? Please?’

Derek hesitated for a few moments, while he decided whether or not this was a good idea, but eventually fell victim to Stiles’ puppy eyes, and stood up back inside the room. ‘Okay,’ he said softly. ‘But only because it’s your birthday.’

***

Derek woke up feeling distinctly like he was being watched. He cracked an eye open, to see Stiles’ dad standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and an expression that read as _displeased but can’t do anything about it_ on his face. Derek sighed and rolled onto his back, reluctantly letting go of Stiles as he did.

‘Morning, Derek,’ Stiles’ dad said, his voice sounding exactly as his face looked.

‘Morning, sheriff,’ Derek replied politely, his own voice rough, as it usually was in the morning.

‘You’re in my son’s bed.’

‘Yes, sir. I am.’

‘ _Why_ are you in my son’s bed?’

Derek huffed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘I dropped in early this morning and he asked me to stay.’

‘And you know it’s only his seventeenth birthday,’ the sheriff continued. ‘And you remember I have a gun.’

‘Vividly,’ Derek muttered, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. ‘We went directly to sleep.’

‘Dad, stop bugging my boyfriend,’ Stiles mumbled, pushing his face further into his pillow. ‘We’re not doing anything, I told you. Go away.’

‘I’m making pancakes. Derek, you’re staying for breakfast, no arguments,’ the sheriff said, before he turned and disappeared, like Stiles had told him to.

‘Boyfriend, huh?’ Derek asked, rolling back over to plaster himself to Stiles’ back. They were both still partly asleep, so he figured he could get away with being a bit more affectionate than he would usually let himself.

‘Well, at some point we’re probably gonna get married or whatever,’ Stiles said, turning in Derek’s arms to duck under his chin. ‘I don’t know what soulmates do.’

‘Probably get married.’

‘Will we?’

‘Not today,’ Derek yawned. ‘Should get up.’

‘Mm, two minutes,’ Stiles murmured. ‘M’ birthday, get to sleep in.’

‘Your dad has other ideas.’

‘Usually does.’

‘Two minutes?’

‘Two minutes.’

***

For someone Stiles was convinced hated him, Erica had scrabbled together a pretty decent party atmosphere for his birthday.

Derek’s loft was decked out in balloons and braided streamers, even a curtain of that long, stupid tinsel that people bought for creating selfie photo booths at popular parties. Or maybe that was just the parties Stiles went to, where it seemed like the majority of the effort had gone into buying food, instead of not setting up decorations in a way that looked like the beginning of a horror movie.

The rest of the pack was already gathered when Stiles entered, Lydia and Jackson off to the side with Allison and Scott, looking only half heartedly enthusiastic about being there. Erica had even got some of those tiny confetti cannons, which were set off loudly and far too close to Stiles’ unprepared ears.

‘Happy birthday, Stiles!’ the room crowed when he stepped further in, closing the door behind himself.

Derek gave him an encouraging smile, from where he was standing at the table by the window, under a shiny banner reading **HAPPY BIRTHDAY!** and, Jesus Christ, Erica really had gone all out. Derek had donated his credit card to the cause, and had done his best to prepare Stiles for what his apartment was beginning to be turned into over breakfast this morning. Stiles had managed to slip into conversation a few weeks earlier that surprise parties were _not_ his thing, and Derek thought this was heading a bit too closely into that territory.

‘Hey, guys,’ Stiles said, giving the room an awkward smile as he was ushered to the table with presents. He hadn’t noticed them, what with Derek standing directly in front and, well. Stiles would rather unwrap _him_ , what with the form fitting black V neck he was wearing, so Stiles was a little distracted, thank you very much.

People started thrusting their gifts at him, but Stiles only had two hands, so they spent a rather awkward ten minutes watching him silently as he unwrapped everything. There were a lot of snacks and comic merch that Stiles was pretty pleased with, as well as a second gift from Derek.

Stiles quirked an eyebrow up at him as Derek handed it over – another box, this time much larger than the one his necklace had come in. He made quick work of opening it and unfolding the tissue paper (tissue paper!) the item was delicately wrapped in. It smelled of orange and something warmer, something spicier that Stiles couldn’t put his finger on exactly.

Stiles pursed his lips to hide his smile as he took the heavy, leather-bound book from the box, flipping it open to reveal thick, blank parchment pages.

‘I thought you could use a notebook for all your tricks,’ Derek said softly, elbowing him gently in the ribs.

‘They’re called spells, Derek,’ Stiles replied, closing the book and holding it to his chest, running his finger idly over the triskelion embossed in the cover. ‘Thank you.’

‘You like it?’

‘It’s perfect,’ Stiles nodded. He had mentioned offhandedly about a week ago that he wanted a good quality book to write his magic notes into. He hadn’t thought Derek was even listening, because he had his nose in a paperback (again), and Stiles was mostly ranting to himself, anyway.

‘Why does Stiles need a book for spells?’ Erica asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.

‘Uh, so, surprise,’ Stiles said, placing the book back in its box, sliding the lid back on to protect it. ‘I can do magic.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yep,’ Stiles looked to Derek, who gave him a quick nod as he knew where this was heading. ‘And I’m the pack emissary.’

‘The what?’

‘Emissary,’ Derek repeated. ‘He’s like… an advisor.’

‘Who can do magic,’ Stiles added. ‘Which is pretty cool.’

‘Pretty cool,’ Derek agreed.

Erica rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue the point. Stiles was glad that they were back to normal, because her friendliness had been weirding him out, even if it was nice for a bit to feel like she didn’t want his head on a spike.

The party turned into an average pack hang out after that, with the snacks being moved to the living area, and a DVD being put on the TV. Stiles didn’t even get to pick, but he got to sit next to Derek on the couch, pressed close from shoulder to ankle, thanks to Scott and Allison squishing them together from the other side, and that more than made up for it.

Erica kept shooting Stiles dirty looks from where she was sitting on the armchair, having commandeered it earlier in the evening, and yep, he had definitely been right in thinking that she thought he was making Derek cheat on a soulmate he hadn’t met yet. She clearly thought the emissary thing was a load of bullshit, purely to excuse how close they were becoming. She knew better to say it in front of Derek, at least, but it didn’t bother Stiles either way.

She could think what she wanted, because Stiles knew what she didn’t. He was Derek’s soulmate, and had a gesture of intent – Derek’s triskelion – lying flat and heavy against a rune on his heart to attest to it.

***

‘You know,’ Stiles said later that night, after everyone had left and it was just him and Derek cleaning up, as usual. ‘I wasn’t expecting _one_ present from you, let alone two.’

‘I can take them back, if you want,’ Derek said, stacking plates and bowls and heading to the kitchen.

‘That’s not what I’m getting at,’ Stiles replied, following him with his hands full of empty soda cans. ‘I just wanted to say thank you again.’

‘You’re welcome, just don’t tell the rest of the pack you got two, or they’ll all want two as well.’

‘Pinky promise I won’t,’ Stiles said, even though he’d already told Scott about the necklace.

‘You told Scott didn’t you.’

‘No.’

‘Your heart skipped twice.’

‘Yeah, told Scott.’

Derek nodded. ‘Figured. I wanted to give you one more thing, if that’s okay.’

Stiles raised an eyebrow as he dropped the cans he was still holding into Derek’s recycling basket. ‘Wow, you’re really spoiling me, huh? Definitely your favourite pack member.’

‘It’s not really a contest, is it?’ Derek asked, surprising Stiles as he turned around to face him, by crowding him against the kitchen bench.

‘I would really hope not,’ Stiles said, leaning into the countertop. ‘What else did you get me?’

‘It’s not something I _got_ you, it’s something I’m going to _give_ you.’

‘Honestly, you say I’m the cryptic one.’

‘Wonder if any of your fun traits are rubbing off on me?’

‘Well, you’ll never beat how annoying –’ Stiles gasped a little, as Derek picked up him by the hips and set him on the bench, stepping into the V of his legs and planting his hands either side of Stiles’ thighs.

‘ _No one_ will ever beat how annoying you are,’ Derek said, finishing off Stiles’ sentence and acting nonchalant about their new situation.

‘So, uh,’ Stiles’ eyes flicked down to Derek’s lips, as his tongue darted out to wet his own. ‘What did you want to give me?’

Derek leaned in a little closer, giving Stiles time to move if he didn’t want it, before he slotted their mouths together.

It was short, or maybe just felt that way because Stiles was frozen in shock, and by the time he moved, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck, he was already pulling away. ‘No, no, come back, it’s my birthday,’ Stiles said, bringing Derek back in, who, to Stiles’ surprise, went willingly and deepened the kiss a bit more.

After a few moments, Derek broke away again, resting his forehead against Stiles’, their breaths mingling. ‘Happy birthday,’ Derek said.

Stiles probably should’ve said something deep and meaningful, or maybe something about being excited for his next birthday, but instead what came out was, ‘If I’m not your favourite pack member, I’d hate to see how you treat your _real_ favourite.’

Derek rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. ‘You’re so fucking weird.’

Fair.

Stiles would try deep and meaningful next year.


	11. Collective Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’re going to need to concentrate a little more,’ Derek said softly, taking his keys from the ignition. ‘Our scents are starting to mix in a way that’s…’  
> ‘Bad?’ Stiles guessed. ‘Homoerotic? Suggestive of hanky panky?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is february my dudes *screeching* anyway, short note - might be a little longer between updates from now (?) because i've got a couple of secrets projects on the go, and i'm starting uni later this month so like... everything happens so much. then again, might not be that long bc we're heading towards the _actual_ plot i have plotted. plottingly.

The alpha didn’t come, as promised by the scouts Stiles and Scott met in the woods. Not two weeks later, not two months later, still not even _six_ months later, but Stiles was as vigilant as ever, practising and building his arsenal of magic, ready to be unleashed at the first sign of danger.

His relationship with Derek was something that had been developing, too. Slowly but surely, they had started realising what Stiles’ birthday meant, and what the next one would signal. They decided to move with baby steps, though sometimes it felt like that wasn’t enough.

‘Stop, shit, Derek,’ Stiles hissed, bringing his hand up and clamping it over the bruise he just _knew_ Derek had made on the side of his neck. ‘We’ve talked about this!’

‘Once,’ Derek pointed out, moving down to Stiles’ collarbone and nudging his shirt aside with his nose. ‘We talked about it once, and you said you _liked_ it.’

‘Not where the pack can see.’

‘They don’t know it was me, why does it matter?’

‘Because I don’t know if it escaped your notice, but right now, we’re in the middle of the preserve and we’re partnered up again. Who else would I have got it from? A particularly excited deer?’

‘You’re being so dramatic,’ Derek mumbled into Stiles’ skin, nipping gently at the base of his throat. ‘We both know you can heal it.’

‘The point is not that I can heal it, it’s that I shouldn’t _have_ to,’ Stiles said, tilting his head back again to give Derek room, and hitting it against the tree behind him. ‘Ouch, fuck.’

‘Are we going to have that conversation where you say we should tell the pack about us, I list the reasons it’s a bad idea, and then you get grumpy and revoke all my privileges?’

‘You don’t have any privileges when it comes to me.’

Derek pulled back and raised an eyebrow incredulously at Stiles. ‘Who else in the pack are you making out with?’

‘Everyone, obviously,’ Stiles rolled his eyes and spun them around, so now Derek was against the tree, and Stiles was the one keeping a lookout for any wandering pack members. ‘You’re just my favourite.’

‘So I _do_ have privileges,’ Derek grinned, pulling Stiles closer by his hips. ‘You just want to make me jealous.’

‘It’s a good look on you, like, _really_ good. You go all possessive and your eyes do the thing and your fangs drop down and it’s, like…’ Stiles took a shuddering breath. ‘Like, it’s good.’

‘Is it?’ Derek asked, flashing his eyes. ‘Really good?’

‘That’s not fair, I literally just said I like when you do that. You can’t do it to get yourself out of the shit with me.’

‘Can’t I?’ Derek said, doing it again and wrapping one hand around the nape of Stiles’ neck, heavy and warm, to pull their mouths together again. ‘Are you saying it’s not working?’

‘Mm, no, definitely not saying that,’ Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips, pressing them together briefly. ‘But we are definitely not going to win if we keep doing this.’

‘What’s the prize again?’

‘For the first time in the history of the pack, you won’t have to pay for pizza.’

‘When was that agreed?’

‘I think you were in the bathroom or something, maybe practising how far down you can bring your eyebrows when you look annoyed,’ Stiles shrugged. ‘I don’t know who’s gonna pay if you don’t, but apparently that’s what’s going on.’

Derek hummed thoughtfully, slipping his thumbs under Stiles’ shirt and rubbing the skin gently. ‘You know, I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doing.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘Weren’t you paying attention?’

‘Don’t go high and mighty on me for not knowing what we’re supposed to be doing, because you don’t either,’ Stiles grumbled, twisting his hands into Derek’s collar.

‘I figure I’ve paid for pizza for this long, so what’s once more?’

‘You’re providing for the pack like a good alpha,’ Stiles murmured. ‘I’m proud.’

‘Is this your version of foreplay?’ Scott hissed, popping up out of nowhere in one of the bushes next to Stiles’ elbow.

Stiles jumped away from Derek, much to his evident disappointment. ‘We’re not doing anything,’ he said quickly, fighting the urge to glance guiltily at Derek. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘That’s a lie,’ Scott said flatly. ‘Just try to keep it together for like five minutes, because Erica’s heading this way and she’s on a warpath.’

‘Scott, we don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doing,’ Derek said, crossing his arms and trying to look as menacing as he could, despite having just been caught being gooey as hell with Stiles.

‘Trying to evade capture by Erica and her band of merry men,’ Scott blinked. ‘Or anyone else. We’re all supposed to be trying to cover our tracks until like two this afternoon, and anyone that gets caught has to pay for pizza.’

_Oh._ ‘That’s kind of a good training… thing,’ Stiles said. ‘Do we count? Are you here to make us pay?’

‘No, I’m here to tell you to stop making out and move on, or Erica’s gonna kill you both,’ Scott said, jerking his head towards the east, where he seemed convinced Erica was coming from. ‘She kinda hates you for making Derek consider being unfaithful to his soulmate, don’t know if you knew.’

‘Told you I was right,’ Stiles said, grinning triumphantly at Derek. ‘Uh, we’ll go. Thanks, Scotty.’

Scott nodded and ducked back into the bushes, probably running off to wherever he’d hidden Allison away from Erica’s wrath.

‘You can cover our tracks long enough for us to get away from her, right?’ Derek asked, as he and Stiles started walking swiftly away from the tree they’d just been occupying.

‘Of course, I can,’ Stiles scoffed, closing his eyes for a moment and conjuring a gust of wind to disguise their footprints, as he also did his best to completely erase their scent from the air. ‘Gone?’

Derek nodded. ‘Let’s move.’

***

The pack was under instruction to return to Derek’s loft at a set time that afternoon, for a discussion about how everyone had gone in the training exercise. Derek and Stiles had, surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, evaded capture the entire day, leaving plenty of time for them to make out and indulge Stiles’ developing kink for Derek’s alpha eyes.

On the drive back, while Stiles concentrated on dampening the smell of their mixed scents, and healing the visible bruises Derek had left on his skin, he decided it was a good a time as any to broach the subject that Scott had touched on.

‘So,’ he started. ‘We should really tell the pack. About us.’

‘Why?’ Derek asked, not moving his eyes from the road – he’d driven them today, and refused to let Stiles behind the wheel of his car. Yet. ‘Things are fine as they are.’

‘Erica wants my head,’ Stiles pointed out. ‘There’s little to no danger to me for being publicly acknowledged as your soulmate, you know.’

‘Stiles, if the wrong people –’

‘Derek,’ Stiles interrupted gently, ‘I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself now. I’d like to see someone _try_ to kidnap me for blackmail purposes. The pack won’t let it slip to anyone if we ask them not to, and it comes with the added bonus of Erica not wanting to _kill me_ for stealing you from your soulmate. Which is me.’

‘She doesn’t –’

‘Uh, she absolutely does. You don’t see the way she looks at me when you’re not around.’

Derek frowned. ‘Well –’

‘I know what I said. I just think you’re being… maybe _too_ overprotective of me, and we’re not even official.’

‘Stiles, either way, you’re still mine.’

‘And trust me, hearing you say that really does it for me, like a lot, but I’ve reached my limit for this shit,’ Stiles shrugged. ‘Deaton has taught me how to disguise my scent, I can set people on fire _with my mind_ , and, oh yeah, I’m turning eighteen in six months, so I’m not a child, and we’re more than likely gonna bang our way into my birthday, and carry right on through. So, it’s time you decide _when_ we’re telling the pack, not _if_.’

Derek let out a long, level breath. ‘Stiles, you don’t understand.’

‘Jesus, Derek, I understand it fine,’ Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not saying today, or tomorrow, or next week. I’m just saying the pack needs to know. They _deserve_ to know, and I deserve to be able to plaster myself all over your fine ass in a way that’s hella not platonic.’

‘Trust me, I want you to.’

‘Then why won’t you let me?’

Derek was quiet for a few minutes, leaving Stiles to look out the windscreen and watch fat drops of rain begin to hit the glass. He was glad they left the preserve when they did, because looking at the sky, the clouds didn’t show any signs of letting up. The rain would be torrential by the time he went home.

‘I want you,’ Derek said finally, his voice quieter and softer than Stiles had heard it since the night he was attacked. ‘But other people will too, because they would love to kill off the last of the Hales, and you’ll be dragged down with me.’

‘Isn’t that the point?’ Stiles asked. ‘For soulmates to stick together? Face adversity _together_?’

‘Stiles, I won’t let –’

‘Derek, I think we’re done with this conversation for now,’ Stiles shook his head. ‘I’m not saying anything else about it, and I think we should just leave it here before we get into a real disagreement, but the pack needs to know. It’s just down to you about _when_.’

‘Fine. Your birthday.’

Stiles blinked. ‘What?’

‘Your birthday,’ Derek repeated. ‘Your eighteenth. When it’s… official.’

‘That’s like six months.’

‘Maybe in six months we’ll have a contingency plan in place.’

‘You are really not an optimist, huh?’

Derek shrugged. ‘That’s my offer.’

‘Fine,’ Stiles said, knowing this would be the best offer he’d get. ‘My birthday it is.’

They were quiet for a while longer, until they were pulling up to park at Derek’s apartment, the rain now beating down on the roof.

‘You’re going to need to concentrate a little more,’ Derek said softly, taking his keys from the ignition. ‘Our scents are starting to mix in a way that’s…’

‘Bad?’ Stiles guessed. ‘Homoerotic? Suggestive of hanky panky?’

Derek rolled his eyes, but smiled good naturedly. ‘The last two. It’s not bad, not to me.’

Stiles took a deep breath, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he pulled lightly on his magic to blanket their scents. He couldn’t wait until he wouldn’t have to do this anymore, because he was just wasting magic on something frivolous. It was like Derek didn’t trust his pack to keep the pair of them safe.

‘Better?’ he asked, sure he’d swept it all under the rug of magic.

‘Yeah,’ Derek leaning over to kiss his hair. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, it’s fine. Gonna make a countdown to my birthday on my phone, but it’s fine.’

‘Stiles.’

‘What?’

‘I promise we’ll tell them, I just don’t want anything at all to go wrong.’

‘I know,’ Stiles sighed. ‘We should get going. They’ll be waiting for us up there.’

Derek nodded. He knew Stiles was frustrated, but he hoped that maybe, now there was a set expiry date on having to hide, that _maybe_ Stiles would settle a little.

Of course, Derek knew that ultimately, it was unlikely.

***

Really, Stiles didn’t know how he’d managed to keep so many things a secret for so long.

First off, he was so fucking lucky the pack wasn’t paying closer attention to him and Derek. They had started stealing glances and kisses in the kitchen, as well as being tactile in ways they weren’t with other people. They chose to sit squished up beside each other, no matter how much room was on the couch, and maybe part of that was because they were turning into friends with zero borders. Erica kept looking at Stiles like she knew there was something going on, but she wasn’t sure what, and didn’t want to risk Derek’s reaction, but other than that, there was nothing.

The other major secret he was keeping was his tattoos, which somehow, Stiles’ dad hadn’t discovered. Of course, when he did, it was in the worst possible way.

It was late afternoon, the sun streaming warm and golden through Stiles’ bedroom window, and he and Derek were making the most of the empty house. No betas, no dads, no lurking best friends. Just a bed, and each other.

They were doing their best to keep everything very much above belt, sticking to the whole “not until Stiles is eighteen” rule that was being imposed by literally _everyone_ , but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do things _above_ the belt. Which was why both Stiles’ and Derek’s shirts were lying abandoned on the floor.

Stiles’ dad wouldn’t be home until later in the evening, so they were taking their time, making out lazily and running their fingers over as much skin as they could reach. Derek had taken to tracing the runes on Stiles’ ribs, already having memorised the lines and patterns, and every different one he touched sent small showers of sparks burning through them both.

Maybe Derek was a little preoccupied, which was why he didn’t hear the sheriff arrive home early, but that wasn’t an excuse for why he didn’t hear the front door open, or the sheriff trooping up the staircase.

‘Stiles?’ the sheriff said cautiously, as he knocked on the bedroom door, because they’d at least had the sense to close it.

‘Shit!’ Stiles hissed, pushing Derek off him and onto the floor, trying to look as casual as he could, kicking at the covers on his bed so they looked like he was the only person who had been on them. ‘Yeah, Dad?’

The sheriff opened the door, his eyebrows shooting up immediately. Stiles thought they’d been caught, but then his dad opened his mouth. ‘Are those tattoos?’

Stiles looked down in surprise at his own chest and, fuck, of course. He’d forgotten they were there, despite that Derek had been touching them and setting them off mere moments ago. ‘Uh, hypothetically?’

‘Hypothetically what?’

‘What if, uh, they are?’ Stiles asked, slowly grabbing a shirt off the floor and, fucking shit, that was Derek’s shirt. Stiles put it on slowly, like he hadn’t noticed, and wasn’t freaking out about Derek being discovered hiding behind his bed.

‘If they are, we need to be having a serious discussion.’

Stiles cleared his throat. ‘Uh, well –’

‘Downstairs in five.’ The sheriff’s face was unreadable, and that usually meant he was very… not happy. ‘Hello, Derek.’

Stiles fought the urge to laugh nervously, or to twitch, or anything that might give him away. ‘Derek’s not – Derek’s definitely not here.’

‘That explains why you were shirtless and are now wearing a shirt that’s not yours.’

‘You don’t know why this was here. _I_ don’t know why this was here. Maybe it’s not Derek’s shirt, maybe it’s _your_ shirt.’

‘That’s not my shirt.’

‘Who says it’s –’

‘Both of you downstairs in five minutes,’ the sheriff said tiredly. ‘I can see him behind your bed.’

Stiles knew the jig was up, and spun around accusingly as his dad left. ‘Jesus, you and your fucking monster feet,’ he hissed. ‘Letting down the whole team.’

Derek popped up and scowled at Stiles above him. ‘My feet are the least of our collective concerns right now. How does your _dad_ not know about your tattoos?’

‘Well, you see, I thought it would be fun if I didn’t tell him,’ Stiles said, standing up, and waiting by his bedroom door to head downstairs. ‘Let’s go. We both know he’ll come back up here.’

‘You’re wearing my shirt,’ Derek said, standing and tossing Stiles’ own shirt at him.

Stiles rolled his eyes and swapped tops quickly, throwing Derek’s inappropriately deep V neck back at him. ‘This is not the relaxing afternoon I was expecting. How didn’t you hear him?’

‘I was a bit busy,’ Derek hissed, as they started down to the kitchen. ‘Why didn’t _you_?’

‘I was distracted!’

‘Boys,’ came the sheriff’s voice. ‘In here, please.’

Stiles shot one last look to his traitorous soulmate (boyfriend? They still hadn’t given an official label to whatever this was) and led the way to meet their fate. ‘Dad,’ he announced. ‘We were not doing anything illegal.’

‘Very comforting. Take a seat. You too, Derek.’

‘Sheriff, nothing –’

‘Noah,’ the sheriff interrupted. ‘We don’t need formalities at this point.’

‘Noah,’ Derek cleared his throat. ‘Nothing was happening. We’ve already decided on this.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m more concerned about the tattoos on my son’s body. You have anything to do with those?’

‘Not at all. He kept them from me as well, to start.’

‘To start.’

‘Wait,’ Stiles said, holding up a hand like he’d just realised something. ‘Are you only mad about the tattoos? Not that you came home early to find your son being ravished by a werewolf?’

Derek let out a low groan and looked to the heavens for guidance. ‘Don’t think that last part was necessary.’

Stiles and his dad both ignored him, choosing to address the actual matter at hand. ‘How long have you had them?’ the sheriff asked.

‘Uh, well, probably like…’ Stiles bit his lip, pretending to calculate instead of mentally preparing himself for the inevitable parental outburst. ‘Like almost seven months, I think?’

‘Seven months?!’ the sheriff cried. ‘Why – Stiles, _what_ were you thinking?’

‘Well I was thinking there was another pack on the way to kill me, and because I enjoy being alive, that maybe I should go through a life-threatening ritual to boost my magical abilities so maybe I _wouldn’t_ die from being killed by werewolves,’ Stiles said in a rush, turning to Derek for moral support. ‘Right?’

‘Oh no, I’m not getting involved in this,’ Derek said, sitting back and crossing his arms, as the sheriff turned his murderous gaze from his son. ‘You didn’t tell me until after the fact. This is all on you.’

‘Is he joking? Life-threatening whatever?’

‘I wish I could say yes?’

‘Stiles!’

‘Dad!’ Stiles said, in the same pissed off and bewildered tone. ‘Look, I didn’t die, everything is fine. I can do cool stuff now!’

‘Like what? What could _possibly_ be worth risking your life? Can you fly? Can you turn invisible? Those are the only reasons it could be called even _slightly_ okay.’

‘Well, no –’

‘Then what were you _thinking_?’

‘I was thinking I might like to be able to defend myself!’ Stiles said, exasperated and getting annoyed himself. ‘Look, I didn’t die, and yes I have a few tattoos now, but as a millennial, that was bound to happen anyway. At least these ones aren’t purely decorative.’

The sheriff heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes for a few moments, before looking up at Stiles again. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ Stiles repeated. ‘Okay, what?’

‘Okay. It’s your life, do what you want. You should’ve told me, Stiles. Didn’t you need some kind of parental permission?’

Stiles had the decency to look sheepish, the fire disappearing from him as he sunk back into his chair. ‘They weren’t done in a shop.’

‘Stiles, what –’ the sheriff stopped, holding his hands up with a shake of his head. ‘Know what? I don’t want to know. Next time you decide to do something that could kill you, let me know first, wouldja?’

‘You’d just try to stop me,’ Stiles grinned.

‘That’s why he didn’t tell me either,’ Derek piped up.

‘Whose side are you on?’ Stiles asked, spinning to face Derek and narrowing his eyes at him.

‘Have you considered that maybe he’s on the side that keeps you alive?’

Derek raised his eyebrows in agreement at Stiles at the sheriff’s words. ‘I’m on your side, but I can’t be if you’re dead.’

Stiles sighed. ‘Fine, whatever, but I didn’t die, so can we all move past it? Great. Dad, what did you want when you came into my room?’

‘I was going to ask what you want to have for dinner.’

‘That doesn’t sound urgent enough to –’ Stiles stopped himself abruptly, flicking his eyes between his dad and Derek.

He knew what he had done was reckless, but at the time, he had believed it was his only choice. He didn’t want to feel weak or like a liability, and since doing the ritual, Stiles hadn’t had one single moment of regret. It just seemed like his dad and Derek wouldn’t understand _why_ he’d done it, no matter how many times he explained it. Derek, at least, had stopped criticizing it, but Stiles knew he would never get over the life-threatening aspect of it. Why couldn’t they just trust him with knowing what was best for himself? Besides, it was done and over with and he _hadn’t died_.

The last thing Stiles wanted was to have this held over his head for the rest of his life. It wasn’t a huge deal, not anymore. ‘Your choice,’ he said quietly. ‘Make whatever. I’m going back upstairs.’

‘Stiles?’ the sheriff called, stopping his son halfway up the staircase. ‘You know I trust you to make good decisions, and if that’s what you honestly believed this was, then I support you, okay?’

Stiles clenched his fingers briefly around the bannister, knowing his dad was telling the truth, but also wouldn’t easily get over it, and he nodded even though he knew his dad couldn’t see it. ‘Yeah, Dad. I know.’

He went back to his room, pacing restlessly as he waited for Derek to come back up.

It took a few more moments than expected, but Derek did follow him, his nostrils flaring as he entered the room, catching scent of Stiles’ obvious unease. He shut the door gently and sat on the bed, knowing Stiles would speak when he was ready.

Stiles knew himself well enough to take time with his words, so he wouldn’t end up throwing blame where it wasn’t warranted. ‘How can I fix this?’ he asked eventually, his voice small as he came to sit beside Derek. ‘How can I make him – _and_ you – trust me again?’

‘I trust you,’ Derek said softly. ‘Of course, I trust you. Your dad still trusts you. There’s nothing to fix.’

‘No, because you’re never going to let it go, that I did something for _me_ so I wouldn’t feel useless, that I took my life into my own hands and took a risk that might not have played out how it did,’ Stiles took a deep breath, feeling himself spiralling. ‘I’m not mad at you.’

‘I know. I’m not mad at you, either,’ Derek said, nudging his shoulder. ‘Despite what you might think. I was, and I told you that, but it only lasted a few minutes. We – your dad and me – we just want you to trust us to trust you in your choices, but it’s done now, I’m happy for you that you feel more in control, and I’m glad you didn’t die, and that’s the end of it.’

‘My dad…’

‘Will get over it, just like I did. He didn’t notice anything different, did he?’

‘No, but I did keep it from him for _months_ , Derek.’

‘Which was your right.’

‘But he’s my dad, and I don’t keep anything from him.’

‘You’re growing up, Stiles,’ Derek reminded him. ‘You’re allowed to keep a few things from him, but I guarantee, when you go downstairs, he won’t be mad. He wasn’t mad when you came up here, either.’

‘But –’

‘He understands, Stiles.’

Stiles sighed. ‘Am I making a big thing out of nothing? We’re actually okay?’

‘Yes, we’re okay,’ Derek pulled Stiles into his side, and placed a kiss on his hair, holding him there for a moment and breathing him in, as the anxiety faded out, leaving just Stiles and his lightning tinged scent. ‘Always.’


	12. Gesture of Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Was that your gesture of intent?’
> 
> ‘No, that’s your birthday present,’ Stiles said. He grabbed a couple of throw pillows from where they were at the bottom of the rug, putting them down behind them. He pushed Derek lightly so he was lying down, facing all the glowing balls. Stiles joined him on his back and waved his hand to dismiss the lights, leaving them in darkness. ‘This is.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! like, almost same tbh. sorry it's been uhhhh, like seven months. my bad, lads. university is wild and i fell into another fandom (catch me submerging my dumb ass in captive prince oops) but other than that?? i've actually had this sitting on my laptop. since march. i haven't checked over it in a few months but last time i did i was like "oh yeah should post that" and uhh?? here we are.
> 
> next time someone come kick my ass on tumblr and keep me accountable, yeah?

‘When’s your birthday?’

Derek looked up from the book in his hands. ‘Why?’

‘I mean…’ Stiles sat back in his desk chair, rubbing his neck idly. ‘We’ve had mine, we’ve known each other more than a year, and I don’t know when yours is. I don’t even know how _old_ you actually are.’

‘How old do you think I am?’

‘Like, twenty-something, probably? No older than twenty-six.’

Derek raised an eyebrow, shutting his book and marking his spot with his thumb. ‘You think I’m twenty-six?’

‘No older than,’ Stiles corrected. ‘I’m guessing I’m wrong?’

‘Two.’

‘Huh?’

‘Currently. Twenty-two. My birthday is next week on the fourteenth.’

‘Oh my God, next week?’ Stiles groaned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Don’t want you making a big deal out of it,’ Derek shrugged. ‘Haven’t really since my family died, and that’s exactly how I want it to stay.’

‘No party?’

‘No party.’

‘Well, we have to do something,’ Stiles frowned. ‘Can we? Just us? If I arrange it?’

‘If you want. But if anyone from the pack shows up, it counts as a party and I’m never letting you organise anything ever again.’

‘Deal,’ Stiles grinned, turning back around in his chair and beginning to type loudly on his laptop.

Derek knew he was going to regret that.

***

**STILES:** _so quick question_

**DEREK:** _what_

**STILES:** _gestures of intent right_

**STILES:** _do they need to be like…. physical things?_

**STILES:** _oh god!! like items, not *~physical~*_

**DEREK:** _are you getting me a gesture of intent, stiles?_

**DEREK:** _you don’t have to, you know that, right?_

**STILES:** _but u once said u would be interested to see what i came up with???_

**STILES:** _so fuck ya im doin it_

**STILES:** _no but srsly answer the question???_

**DEREK:** _omg_

**DEREK:** _no it doesn’t have to be a material object, it can be a gesture, an act. which is why it’s called a GESTURE of intent._

**STILES:** _i will never be over u saying “omg” it’s so funny_

**STILES:** _but okay thank u that’s all_

**DEREK:** _is this about my birthday??_

**STILES:** _no it’s a surprise go away_

**STILES:** _also pls be at my house w ya wolfy senses turned off at like 8ish on ur bday pls_

**DEREK:** _you know i can’t turn them off_

**STILES:** _no but u can ignore them and i know that bc scott told me so :))) so stop complaining and do it pls :)))_

***

Derek was going into this entire thing blind, literally, because Stiles had insisted on tying a blindfold around his eyes before they left his house. It was almost concerning, because it was starting to get dark out, and he was currently being led to Stiles’ jeep.

‘Whoops,’ Stiles said, as he accidentally guided Derek’s head right into the door frame. ‘Sorry.’

Derek grunted in reply, his hand automatically going for the seatbelt, before getting another shock as Stiles whacked it away and got right in his face to do the belt himself. ‘Am I going to _need_ a seatbelt?’ he asked, as Stiles left and came around to the driver’s side.

‘Probably not,’ Stiles replied. ‘I am an exceptional driver. I’m also the sheriff’s son, though, so we’re all about leading by example.’

‘That sounds like bullshit.’

‘Well, only some of it,’ Stiles muttered. ‘Kind of looks like a kidnapping at the moment.’

‘As if you could kidnap me.’

‘I’m sure if I used enough charm and magic, I could get you to follow me anywhere.’

‘You don’t need to use charm _or_ magic for that.’

Stiles was quiet, leaving the rumble of the jeep’s engine as all Derek could hear. He was attempting not to pay attention to the movements of the car, so he wouldn’t start trying to guess where Stiles was taking him, but it was pretty hard for him to blindly trust – even _Stiles_ – so it was taking a lot of effort.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Stiles said after a few minutes, interrupting Derek’s careful inattention.

‘Of course,’ Derek said, digging his fingers into the seat, as Stiles made a particularly sharp turn. Exceptional driver, his ass.

Stiles’ voice was quiet, almost detached when he spoke. ‘Would you have picked me as a soulmate? If you’d had the choice?’

‘No,’ Derek said, because it was the truth. He was glad for the blindfold, thankful he wouldn’t have to see the hurt he knew would be making its way onto Stiles’ face. ‘But that’s the point of soulmates, isn’t it? You never know your perfect match until they’re right there in front of you, and sometimes it takes a little while for things to happen, but eventually, it all works out.’

‘But you wouldn’t have picked me.’

‘I wouldn’t have picked anyone. For a long time, I didn’t want a soulmate, I wanted that mark on my arm to be a mistake, because I was afraid of what it meant.’

‘What did it mean?’

This was not the conversation Derek wanted to be having on his birthday. ‘It meant I wasn’t normal. I was a werewolf, I had a soulmark, I was coming to terms with that I wasn’t looking at girls the same way as my friends. I didn’t want to stand out any more than I did already.’

‘Were you ashamed?’ Stiles asked softly. ‘Knowing your soulmate would be a boy? That it would be me?’

‘For a little while,’ Derek admitted. ‘Laura, my sister, and my mom – they helped me. My mom always told me that whoever had the matching mark to me would be just as scared, and it gave me a little comfort. I’ve never hated what it meant, I was just… young.’

‘You must miss your mom.’

‘Every damn day,’ Derek agreed quietly.

Stiles nodded. ‘Me too.’

Derek was content to let the conversation die, then, hoping something happier would break the silence next time. It was a little strange for him that Stiles didn’t speak again until he pulled the car to a stop, after the car had rolled over gravel and the air coming into the car had a familiar scent to it.

‘We’re getting out here,’ Stiles murmured. ‘Do you trust me to walk you the rest of the way?’

‘Yes,’ Derek said. ‘Of course.’

‘Good.’ Stiles got out and came around the other side, being careful not to hit Derek’s head again. ‘Now, I know you can probably smell Scott and Allison –’

‘I said if anyone from the pack was here then –’

‘They’re not staying. They just helped me to set up and stayed to guard it from, like… teenagers,’ Stiles huffed and took Derek’s hand, leading him over a path littered with stones and small branches that cracked under their feet. ‘I needed them to stay while the wards set properly.’

‘You warded the area?’ Derek asked suspiciously. ‘Why?’

‘It’s just like a barrier that sends people in a different direction, like a confusion spell, basically.’

‘What are you going to do out here that you don’t want people seeing? Gonna murder me, Stiles?’

‘Not today,’ Stiles said lightly, as they came to a stop.

‘Hey, Derek,’ came Scott’s voice. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks,’ Derek smiled awkwardly, even though he couldn’t see anyone or anything, so he had no idea if it was returned.

‘Uh, well, we’ll leave you to it, see you guys later.’

‘Happy birthday,’ Allison whispered, as she and Scott passed. ‘You’re lucky to have him.’

‘I know,’ Derek murmured. He heard their retreating footsteps and waited until he was sure they were out of range, before he made a move. ‘Blindfold?’

‘Right,’ Stiles muttered, untying it from Derek’s face.

Derek blinked for a few seconds, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. It wasn’t actually _dark_ , as such. There were a few floating balls of light that Derek was sure were Stiles’ doing, ranging in size from golf ball to basketball, illuminating a picnic blanket underneath.

He looked around, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. They were at the old Hale house, and Derek had no idea. Usually the smell of smoke and ash was the first thing that hit him when he came here, the few lingering scents of his family and pack that were fading more by the day.

‘Did you mask the smell of my house?’ he asked quietly.

Stiles nodded. ‘Figured it would be more of a surprise that way.’

‘What exactly is this surprise?’

Stiles smiled and took his hands again, tugging him lightly to the picnic blanket and pushing him to sit down. ‘Snacks and a show.’

‘Oh?’

Stiles dug into a backpack that was sitting off the edge of the blanket, pulling out candy and Doritos, some bottles of juice and water. He frowned as he dug around in the bag, before he apparently got frustrated by the lack of light and curled a finger in the air, one of the floating lights coming down closer to him. ‘Aha,’ he said triumphantly, as he found whatever he was looking for.

Derek took the small box from Stiles’ outstretched hand and repeated something that Stiles had said to him on _his_ birthday. ‘It’s not a ring, is it? I don’t think I’m ready for marriage.’

Stiles grinned. ‘No, it’s not.’

Derek opened the box, revealing a simple silver cuff bracelet. It was thin and felt delicate in his hands as he turned it over, running his fingers over the sigils carved on the inside. He looked up to Stiles in confusion.

‘For protection,’ Stiles said. ‘Some generic, some of my own creation. There’s a couple for strength and wisdom in there, because I figured it couldn’t hurt.’

‘Protection?’

‘I want you around for a long time,’ Stiles said quietly, ducking his head a little. ‘Being a werewolf comes with a few occupational hazards.’

‘Like getting hurt and potentially dying.’

‘Yeah, that.’

‘Well,’ Derek slipped it over his wrist, feeling something… _extra_ running through his veins, like he was indeed protected by this inconsequential piece of jewellery. ‘I love it, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Was that your gesture of intent?’

‘No, that’s your birthday present,’ Stiles said. He grabbed a couple of throw pillows from where they were at the bottom of the rug, putting them down behind them. He pushed Derek lightly so he was lying down, facing all the glowing balls. Stiles joined him on his back and waved his hand to dismiss the lights, leaving them in darkness. ‘This is.’

It took only a few seconds for Derek’s eyes to adjust, and he immediately knew what was going on. The stars twinkling in the clear black sky above them, and the blanket Stiles was pulling over them brought him back to his childhood. They were even lying where his lawn had once been. The trees seemed taller back then, or maybe it was just that Derek had grown, and he could almost hear his mother’s voice whisper in his ear.

Stiles took a small breath beside him, disturbing the blanket a little by crossing his ankles. ‘Orion was a mighty hunter,’ he began, ‘and he loved Eos, the dawn.’

Derek smiled, and reached for Stiles’ hand under the blanket, lacing their fingers together. He didn’t know what to expect from Stiles’ gesture, but this wasn’t it, and he had never been happier to be wrong. This was… perfect. To recreate one of Derek’s favourite things from a happier time in his life, and to hear this story once more, where he had lost so much of his family. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, glad his voice didn’t betray the thickness in his throat.

Stiles didn’t stop his story, just squeezed Derek’s fingers to let him know he understood.

Later that night, as Derek watched Stiles get ready for bed, he realised something – Allison was right. Initially he had only reflexively agreed with her that he was lucky to have Stiles, but maybe his first instinct had been right.

He doubted anyone else would’ve been as accepting or involved with his life and its quirks in quite the way Stiles was. He had brought himself into the fold and fit seamlessly into the gaps Derek hadn’t even noticed existed. With his magic, it was like he balanced everything out, almost like fate.

Well, it _was_ fate, wasn’t it?

‘You know,’ Derek said, raising an eyebrow as Stiles reorganised his desk for the third time. ‘What I said earlier, I don’t think it came out how I intended.’

Stiles stopped and turned around, his hands on his hips. ‘What did you say earlier?’

‘How I wouldn’t have picked you.’

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, thanks for the reminder –’

‘No,’ Derek said. ‘Stop for a moment.’

‘Why?’

‘I wouldn’t have picked you –’

‘You really don’t need to repeat –’

‘ _Stiles_ ,’ Derek interrupted. ‘You were sixteen. I wouldn’t have picked someone so young or clumsy or annoying, I just…’

‘Is this supposed to be making me feel better?’ Stiles asked, flopping onto his bed and sitting cross-legged, scowling at Derek in the windowsill.

‘I would’ve picked _you_.’

Stiles’ face went flat. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘You, Stiles, you who is smart, resourceful, funny, _brilliant_. Not the _you_ I assumed you were, you who I _know_ you are.’ Derek frowned a little, hoping his point was coming across clearer than it seemed to him. ‘The universe doesn’t make mistakes, I just hadn’t seen it yet.’

Stiles visibly softened, slumping into himself a little. ‘What are you trying to say here?’

‘I think I’m…’

‘Yes?’

Derek looked up. He couldn’t say it, wouldn’t say it if he wasn’t completely sure of it. He just gave Stiles a pleading look, spreading his hands out, as if to say, _“I’m laying my cards down, can you tell me what you see in them?”_

Stiles seemed to get it, biting his lip and looking down to his hands. ‘Don’t break my heart,’ he whispered.

Derek shook his head, relieved Stiles wasn’t forcing the words from him. ‘I won’t,’ he replied softly.

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

***

Things settled a little after that, and they would’ve stayed that way, if it wasn’t for Lydia. And Allison. But mostly Lydia.

Stiles used to have a little bit of a crush on her, before he met Derek, and he was still wildly intimidated by her at the best of times. The fact that she was usually backed up by Jackson made her even scarier, because together they were a force to be reckoned with. Less so in supernatural matters (which was typically where Stiles and his alpha werewolf boyfriend took the awards) but when her attention was caught, it tended to stay.

Which was something Stiles knew, and something that had his heart beating a little faster with nerves, when he saw her watching him and Derek. Scrutinising, maybe, was a better word, and she had that look on her face Stiles knew meant she had figured something out.

She knew something was up, and he knew she knew, and she probably knew he knew she knew, which… yeah. Scared him.

Lydia saw him watching her watching them, and her face split into a grin. She turned to Allison, muttering something low enough that none of the werewolves seemed to have heard her – not even Scott, who was sitting on Allison’s other side.

The pair of them then turned their attention to Stiles watching them, and Allison gave him a look he interpreted as, _“You’re fucked.”_

Extra good. So fun.

Lydia got up abruptly and left for the kitchen, ignoring Stiles on her way past him, which he assumed was her way of making sure he knew to follow.

‘So,’ she said, once Stiles was in the kitchen with her. ‘What’s with you and Derek?’

‘Absolutely nothing,’ Stiles said breezily, inspecting his nails in an attempt to show how little there was to say on the matter. ‘We are the most platonic alpha and emissary ever to exist.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Lydia nodded. ‘How about as two guys who are clearly very into each other?’

Stiles’ eyes widened of their own accord. ‘We’re absolutely not into each other.’

‘Stiles, please.’

‘You can’t prove anything,’ he said, deciding to switch tactics. ‘What if we are? What if we’re completely not-platonic, huh? What then?’

‘Then it’s about time,’ she shrugged. ‘Am I right?’

Stiles took a couple of steps towards her, where she was lounging against the counter beside the fridge. ‘Who have you talked to about this?’ he asked, being sure to keep his voice low.

‘Only you and Allison.’

‘Good.’

‘So, am I right?’

Stiles looked out to the living room, where he saw Derek sitting stiffly, doing his best to seem like he wasn’t listening. He was probably the only wolf who could even hear what was happening in here, which was good, because Stiles had completely forgotten to magically soundproof the two of them. ‘Derek?’ he said quietly.

Derek nodded imperceptibly, more of a brief incline of his head than anything, and laughed with the conversation he was actively participating in.

Stiles took it as a good sign and turned back to Lydia. ‘The wolves can’t know.’

‘Who else does? Just me and Allison?’

‘And Scott.’

Lydia nodded, a triumphant glint in her eyes. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

Stiles exhaled in relief. ‘Thank you. Just so you know, Derek _might_ kill you if you do tell anyone else.’

‘You have nothing to worry about from me,’ she said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Really.’

‘How did you figure it out?’

‘The wolves are all unobservant as hell when it comes to things right under their noses. I am not a wolf. I notice things.’ Lydia smiled softly and looked back out to where the pack had started piling together on one of the beanbags. ‘You and him, you gravitate towards each other. Even when you’re nowhere near each other, you’re always slightly turned to him. When you _are_ together, it’s like he relaxes completely, like he’s never okay unless you’re beside him.’

‘Oh.’

Lydia leaned a little closer to him, whispering into his ear, ‘I’ve read a lot of research on the subject, Stiles. I know what soulmates look like.’

Stiles looked at her in shock as she pulled back. He felt unable to form words, unable to process that she had guessed, simply by _watching_ them. Then again, Lydia had always been smart, and it seemed like a lot of the time that Stiles was the only one who knew.

So maybe now the tables were even, with both knowing each other’s secret. Though, granted, his was a little more important to keep under wraps.

‘You can’t tell anyone that,’ he whispered. ‘Absolutely _no one_ , not until we do.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I promise. I might not be a werewolf, but I’m still in this pack and he’s still the alpha, as weird as it is to say it out loud. I’m not going to do anything to compromise either of you.’

‘We appreciate that.’

Lydia grinned. ‘So, what’s it like?’

‘Huh?’

‘He definitely looks good, but sometimes that doesn’t translate into the other stuff.’

‘We, uh,’ Stiles blushed, looking to see if Derek was still listening in. Which he was. ‘We haven’t…’

‘Really?’ Lydia asked, raising her eyebrows with a smirk. ‘Best get onto that. Remember that love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling.’

‘Lydia!’

‘I’m quoting Oscar Wilde!’

‘I know, but you don’t need to say things like that to me!’

‘Prude,’ she said, rolling her eyes with a smile. ‘Look, he’s blushing too, because he knows it’s true.’

‘God kill me,’ Stiles groaned. ‘Just end me.’

‘How about I end this conversation instead?’

‘Even better.’

Lydia laughed, and she handed him a bag of Doritos to take back. ‘Come on, they probably noticed we left. Did you want any other snacks while we’re here?’

‘Uh, no, I’m good.’

Nothing was said when Stiles and Lydia returned to the rest of the pack, though the look Erica gave him was a little less acidic than usual. Maybe she thought it was better he break up a relationship not protected by soulmate status, as opposed to that of her alpha.

Stiles thought he’d got away with it, until his phone buzzed with a text later that night, after he returned home and settled into bed.

 

**DEREK:** _she’s right, you know._

**STILES:** _who? what???_

**DEREK:** _Lydia._

**STILES:** _well yeah she usually is right but about what??_

**DEREK:** _love._

**DEREK:** _it’s best taken kneeling._

**STILES:** _do u intentionally just. have the worst fucking timing_

**STILES:** _or are u torturing me for fun_

**STILES:** _bc this is not gonna help me sleep, u ASS._

**DEREK:** _i’m sure you’ll be fine :)_

**DEREK:** _or that you’ll find a way to help yourself ;)_

**STILES:** _ur gonna kill me w this_

**STILES:** _and if u do_

**STILES:** _im gonna come back and ride ur ass about killing me :(_

**DEREK:** _ride my ass huh?_

**STILES:** _…_

**STILES:** _who are u and what have u done w actual derek_

**DEREK:** _;)_

**DEREK:** _just a thought. sleep well, stiles._

**STILES:** _i hate you?_

***

The next time he saw Derek, Stiles waited to see if he was going to say anything about their text conversation a few nights ago. He didn’t, of course he didn’t, because Derek was a little shit, and he would never admit to teasing Stiles like that, nor would he do it in person. Not yet, at least, because the pack still didn’t know about them (except for a small but increasing number of their… _closer_ friends) and wouldn’t for a few months yet.

Stiles was nervous, however, for what would happen after that few months’ time. He had never been with anyone – girl _or_ guy, hadn’t been given the chance – and he didn’t know if Derek had, either. Surely, he had, but there was part of Stiles’ brain that screamed he couldn’t possibly. Not when he had said that wolves tended not to stray from their soulmates.

The small thing bothering Stiles was that they were on the verge of pledging their lives to each other – they already had, in a way, by acknowledging their soulmarks and choosing to be together – but what if they weren’t… compatible? Sure, they had their disagreements, but disagreements you could get over. If the sex was bad, if they were both left unsatisfied and disappointed, would _that_ break them? Probably not, Stiles thought they could find a way to make it work, to improve the collective experience, but still. It lingered.

It shouldn’t linger. They hadn’t even _officially_ had the boyfriend talk. He vaguely remembered something about getting married that had been mentioned in passing, but they had never said, _“Yes, I want you to be my boyfriend. I am your boyfriend. We are boyfriends.”_

It bothered him.

‘We’re dating, right?’

Derek blinked and turned to him, pressing pause on the movie they had going on his laptop. ‘Pardon?’

‘Dating. Us. That’s a thing we’re doing?’ Stiles said, feeling his cheeks reddening.

‘We’re soulmates, Stiles.’

‘Yeah, but are we _dating_?’

‘Have we had this conversation?’

‘At this point I don’t know. Maybe just had it about fifty times in my head,’ Stiles shrugged.

‘Uh…’ Derek frowned. ‘Yeah, I guess we’re dating.’

‘You guess? Or we are?’

‘Why is this suddenly at the forefront of –’

‘I need things spelled out sometimes,’ Stiles interrupted. ‘So the answer is yes?’

‘Yes. We are dating,’ Derek nodded. ‘I am your boyfriend. You are my boyfriend. Better?’

Stiles let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. ‘Yes. Sorry. It’s just been annoying me recently. I feel like we missed a few steps, y’know?’

‘Which steps?’

‘I didn’t know your birthday until recently, we never go on like… _dates_. We just hang out a lot. We never had the boyfriend conversation until like a minute and a half ago, we just kinda accepted each other as our soulmate… I don’t know. Ignore me,’ Stiles muttered.

‘I’m not going to ignore you,’ Derek said, putting his hand gently on Stiles’ knee. ‘If something’s up, you can talk to me, right?’

‘I know, I just don’t want to bother you or anything.’

‘Stiles. Bother me.’

Stiles quirked the side of his mouth up into half a smile. ‘Sure?’

‘Yes.’ Derek lifted his free hand to the side of Stiles’ face. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

Stiles shook his head. ‘Not right now. It can wait.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ Stiles leaned his head into Derek’s hand a little, turning to kiss his palm. ‘Don’t worry.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~but hey seven months is still not as bad as the fic i haven't touched in three years lol~~

**Author's Note:**

> come join me on [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) where i yell about a lot of things all the time.


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